Repercussions
by Slothinator
Summary: No good deed goes unpunished. Well, this punishment might not actually be so bad... Spideypool.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Well, my love for this pairing hit me hard and fast. I decided to try my hand at sharing the love.

Just to note, this fic may be a tad slow to progress to the yummy parts. However, I assure you the wait will be worth your while (I may be new to the fandom, but not to writing slash). When it does get there, it will most certainly exceed fanfiction's smut standards, and I will begin posting to an alternate website (I will provide a link in the future).

Until that time though, please enjoy! Comments, constructive criticism, and ideas are welcome (though I can't promise that they will be incorporated).

**Disclaimer: **As usual, I do not own Spider-man, Deadpool, or any associated characters.

**Font Clarification: **Narration, speech, etc...

_Peter's thoughts, occasionally to emphasize words (the difference should be apparent)_

_Wade's thoughts__  
_

**Emphasizing words**

* * *

Over the few years that Peter had known Deadpool, his opinion of him had gradually shifted from blatant distaste, to tolerance, and finally to a strange sense of friendliness and trust. Due to the nature of Deadpool's work, they hadn't crossed paths too terribly often, but had teamed up on enough occasions to have formed a bond of sorts. Maybe that was why when Peter came across the mercenary's battered and unconscious body in an alley while patrolling one night, he decided to take him back to his apartment to look after.

Peter grabbed the larger man's body with little effort and made his way back home, wondering along the way just what had happened to knock the immensely resilient man out of it. Reaching the fire escape outside of his living room window, Peter finagled his cargo in with some effort, and carefully laid him down on his couch. It was a bit hard to tell through the shredded remnants of the red and black spandex body suit, but he could see still-wet blood coating most of Deadpool's body. Where exactly he was injured was impossible to tell, not that it mattered. Peter was well aware of the man's healing factor, and figured he'd be completely healed in less than an hour, whatever the damage might be. Nonetheless, Peter retrieved a bowl of hot water and a washcloth before pulling a chair from the dining room table to sit facing the couch. He hesitated before sitting, once more looking down at the mess of ripped spandex and blood before him, and grabbed a pair of scissors as well.

He quickly got to work removing the remnants of the older man's suit. Peter didn't even have to consider whether or not to leave the merc's mask intact. He knew just how important maintaining a secret identity was to most superheroes, and to remove it would be the ultimate sign of disrespect. Instead, he began cutting at the neck, slowly moving his way down. Having a few years of experience dealing with a variety of mutants under his belt helped to dull his shock when he saw just how scarred Deadpool's body was, but he still shifted uncomfortably in his chair, again wondering just what in the hell he'd been through to get them. His mind lingered on the thought while he continued snipping away, pondering the specifics of his "advanced healing" that had left him a patchwork mess of scars. When he finally finished undressing the man, Peter pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and awkwardly covered the merc's essentials, unwillingly and enviously taking note of his _exceptional_ male physique.

Peter grabbed the washcloth from the bowl of water, squeezing out the excess before beginning the arduous task of cleaning up what seemed like at least a gallon of semi-dried blood. He ran the cloth gently down the contours of the older man's chest and stomach, rinsing it in the bowl every now and then. Quickly falling into a thoughtless rhythm as he lifted and shifted the man's body to reach his sides and back, Peter's mind wandered, finally starting to question his actions over the past hour. _Why did I feel the need to go this far? Sure, we've worked together in the past, and I don't hate the guy, but it's not like we're friends either. I know damn well that he'll be fine regardless of what's done to him. Ruining my damn couch with bloodstains for no reason..._ More and more he started cursing and questioning himself, realizing just how thoughtless his spur-of-the-moment decision had been. _Of all people, Deadpool? To my apartment? The man is absolutely insane! Even if we have a bit of a rapport... If he comes to while he's still here, I'm risking my identity- God, I'm going to have to move again, and I just got settled in. _

Peter realized he was talking himself into a mild panic and consciously pried himself from his current stream of thought. He swallowed and looked back down at his hands, laughing despite himself when he realized he was still fully suited up, having not even thought to take off his gloves. He didn't bother to rectify the situation, figuring it was too late to remove them anyways. At the very least though, his own thoughtlessness had lightened his mood a little. His identity was still concealed, all the way down to his wet and bloodied gloves, and Deadpool was still unconscious. If he was quick and lucky, Peter still had time to finish cleaning his wounds, put some clothes on him, and drop him off on some roof a decent distance away. His identity and address would remain unknown, and all would be well. Deadpool wouldn't even know that Spiderman had been there. Sufficiently calmed, Peter quickened his pace and finished cleaning the last smudges of blood from the merc's legs. Time being of the essence at the moment, Peter decided to leave the cleaning up until after he'd returned from dropping Deadpool off, instead hurrying to his bedroom to try to find some clothes that would fit the significantly larger man.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the young hero, and as the universe's way of rewarding his goodwill of not removing the mercenary's mask on principle, Deadpool followed him with his eyes as he left the room. He had woken up at about the same time as Spiderman had started cutting his clothes off. Wade had been so intrigued by the scene playing out before him that he had actually managed to keep his mouth shut. He laid perfectly still, watching with exponentially growing interest as the kid stripped and washed him. He and Spidey had worked together often enough in the past to have a tentative friendship (at least from his point of view) but he couldn't imagine the kid cared for him enough to worry about his wellbeing, **especially** not to the point of giving him a sponge bath and lovingly cleaning his wounds. He looked around the room, wondering if the younger man had actually brought him back to his house. It was small and clean, but still looked lived in enough for Wade to assume that this was actually where the kid lived. He shifted his eyes as far as he could without moving his head to scan the room, but to his disappointment, couldn't find any identifying paraphernalia.

He again began wondering why Spidey was tending to him. Last he remembered, he had had just finished a hit; a bit of a messy one that had landed him with a number of slashes here and there. All in all, they looked a lot worse than they actually were, though his suit was definitely in need of some tailoring (it was probably beyond saving now...). Hell, even if they'd been severe, he'd have been fine in no time. He had settled down for a celebratory dinner on the roof of the first building he'd come to after procuring it (chimichangas, naturally), and had dozed off after glutting himself, too lazy to make his way back to his apartment yet. He partially remembered waking up after rolling off the side of said building in his sleep into the alley several stories below, but, again, was too lazy to get up at the moment. Now, somehow, here he was, naked in what he assumed to be Spidey's living room, getting a complimentary wipe down from his young acquaintance. Hey, he was a deep sleeper.

Wade heard footsteps approaching and did his best to keep up a convincing air of unconsciousness while watching from the corner of his eye as Spidey approached carrying a pile of clothes. He felt his pulse quicken a bit as he realized what was about to happen, and briefly considered if it was about time for him to "wake up". _Nah._

* * *

Peter sighed as he set the clothes on the chair he'd pulled up next to the couch. It had proven rather difficult to find something that might fit Deadpool, and he still wasn't even sure what he'd picked out would do the trick. Still, he removed a pair of sweatpants from the stack and kneeled at the end of the couch, doing his best to start working the merc's feet into them. He grunted and cursed quietly as he shimmied them up, shifting to kneel between the older man's legs. At the same time, he started to despair as it was growing increasingly difficult to push the pants higher. He was now certain that they were too small, and momentarily considered just wrapping a sheet around the mercenary and leaving him to his own devices. However, as it had several times already this evening, his conscience got the better of him, and he continued struggling to clothe the man. He was, after all, the one who had decided to bring him here and cut his clothes off. He couldn't just leave Deadpool naked on a roof.

Peter finally managed to get the pants most of the way up the older man's thighs. He tossed the blanket that had been covering Deadpool's pelvis aside, but balked when he saw that the man was **very** erect, actually falling backwards, and only just catching himself on the arm of the couch. He swallowed and looked away, feeling his face burning under his mask. He had felt a pang of jealousy when undressing him, but his bitterness was increased tenfold now. He could only attribute his not noticing before to the way he'd heaped the blankets on the merc, and couldn't help but wonder how long it'd been like that. Peter swallowed again and pushed the thought away, telling himself it was just since he was unconscious and cleaning him off had involved a lot of touching. He moved to hover back over the man and continued his fight with the elastic band.

After a few minutes without any further progress (at least partially caused by him doing his damnedest not to look at or brush again the offending... appendage), Peter decided that he'd have to change his position to get more leverage. Sighing for what was probably the hundredth in the past ten minutes, he worked one knee between Deadpool's waist and the back of the couch, and placed his other foot on the ground to brace himself, effectively straddling the older man. Leaning over the merc and taking a tight grip on handfuls of elastic, the young brunette gritted his teeth and pulled with the best combination of force and care as he could muster at his current frustration level. The pants finally relented and slid up past the man's hips in one solid motion.

Now the only problem remained was that a certain part of the mercenary's anatomy was left protruding from the waistband. Peter grimaced at the whole situation, vowing to never again involve himself in "rescues" that included clothing unconscious acquaintances as he lifted and wiggled the waistband as much as possible, hoping things would fall into place. _He didn't even need my damn help. This is what I get for being nosy. Friendly neighborhood Spiderman- self-appointed self-righteous meddler and all-around idiot... _After what felt like the most painfully awkward eternity, praying Deadpool wouldn't pick that moment to regain consciousness and repeating his mantra a self loathing, everything was finally properly stowed.

* * *

All this while, Deadpool was stuck in the most hilarious limbo. He'd not experienced a lot of physical contact since the whole Weapon X and cancer and horribly disfiguring scars thing, which tended to drive people screaming in the opposite direction, so he was actually quite proud of himself for not getting hard the entire time Spidey was rubbing all over his body (not that he was into guys, but that was more gentle caressing in a few minutes than he'd had in the past several years combined). What surprised him was, after all of that touching, which he would have understood getting hot and bothered over, his switched had been flicked watching the kid struggle to put pants on him. Well, it was actually mostly the grunting and cursing that did it... for some reason. He wasn't too sure himself, but it certainly did the trick. Then, when he watched the kid pull the blanket away and damn near fall off of the couch, he **really** started feeling it. The voices in his head were strangely silent, and he couldn't even gather his thoughts enough to question _why_ he was saluting the sky with such enthusiasm. But, oh, when Spidey moved to straddle him, leaning over so their faces were close while he continued struggling with the pants... Oh ho ho... And the palpable shame of the kid as he wiggled things into place... Wade was absolutely giddy. He was trying his absolute best to keep a straight face, not wanting to end this interesting situation. However, before the merc had the chance to give himself away, things went awry on their own.

* * *

Peter ran his hand over his face, thankful that this god awful experience was almost over. As far as he was concerned, Deadpool was decent enough as he was. He didn't have it in him to try to work the merc's limp arms through the baggy shirt he'd brought out, and it'd probably have woken the man up if he'd tried. Peter _really_ did not want any more to do with the older man that evening, especially if that involved trying to explain to the night's events to him. Alas, his "Parker luck" had a reputation to maintain, and he wasn't about to slip out of this situation so easily.

Feeling more worn out than he had in a very long time, Peter moved to dismount the mercenary. Perhaps due to his exhaustion, and despite his enhanced balance and reflexes, his leg didn't quite completely slip out from between the older man's hip and the couch. He staggered and fell hard into Deadpool's chest. The torque of his leg being pried free, and his continued momentum away from the couch succeeded in flipping the both of them onto the floor.

Peter felt a sharp burn of pain in his side from grazing the corner of the chair in his descent. The breath had been knocked out of him from the combination of hitting the floor with decent amount of force, and then immediately having the much larger man fall directly on top of him. At the very least, he was thankful they'd not knocked over the bowl of bloody water that he'd set on the floor next to the chair. He struggled to inhale, groaning as he tried to lift himself onto an elbow under the weight of the merc, rubbing the already growing bump on the back of his head. Peter felt the man shift on top of him, and could only watch in silent horror as Deadpool worked himself up onto his hands and knees, shaking himself like a wet dog before lifting his head to look at Peter.

"Yo."

_Shit._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **A decently speedy update! Hurrah!

A bit further explanation of the way I differentiate the voices in Deadpool's head when he's thinking. As in the last chapter _this_is just him thinking. _(This_) is voice number 1, and _[this] _is voice number 2. I hope that helps.

Also, I've been playing around with perspective. The way I write sentences and refer to the characters depends on whose point of view I'm trying to capture. When they're together, and it's more of a strict narration, it'll be a more neutral mixture. Hopefully it flows in an intuitive manner.

* * *

Wade figured there was no way he could continue pretending to be unconscious. He struggled to untangle his limbs from the younger man's, moving onto his knees to relieve the kid of his weight. Quickly regaining his bearings, the merc stood without a word, offering a hand to the younger man (surprised when he actually took it). Wade took the chance to survey the room from his new vantage point, but found nothing of interest aside from the stained couch he'd been laying on. He turned his attention back to the kid, who was still standing silent, shifting his weight from foot to foot. _Guess it's up to me to break the ice._

"So, um... I take it you found me in the alley?"

Peter was relieved that Deadpool had spoken first, unsure of how to broach the situation himself.

"Yeah... I figured you'd be fine no matter how badly you were hurt, but I have to admit that I was a little curious about who you'd been fighting that had been capable of knocking you out cold." He continued rubbing the bump on the back of his head as he spoke, "And after I found you, I kind of felt obligated to help a... friend." The word slipped awkwardly from his lips and hung in the air between them for a moment. Peter cringed as he saw the material of Deadpool's mask stretch in a wide smile. The merc suddenly broke out in laughter, doubling over while gripping his sides. He went on for a good long while. The younger man watched in a mixture of confusion and worry. Finally, he straightened himself, rubbing his eye through his mask as though wiping a tear away.

"No, no! I was taking a nap."

Peter was silent for a moment, his irritation flaring up. "... Really? In an alley?" As soon as he asked, he knew it was most likely true. _Oh for fuck's sake... I risked my identity to try to help him, and he was napping!? And my couch!? My new couch! That damn thing cost a full paycheck!_ He rubbed his temples and remained silent while the merc continued chucking to himself.

Wade realized that Spidey didn't find the situation as funny as he did, connecting the dots. _Ah, of course he doesn't want me to know where he lives.__ (Yeah, we are kind of crazy...) [And our reputation isn't that good. Even if we are friends, he probably wants to keep his identity secret from us. Now that we know where he lives, that's in jeopardy.] __But he did call me a friend.__ (Come on, you saw him face after he said that. That was obviously a slip of the tongue.) [He's wearing a mask. We couldn't see anything.] __A Freudian slip?__ (No, just a regular slip.) [Anyways, he's probably upset that we know. He tried to help, even though we were just sleeping.]_

The older man was pulled from his musings when Peter cleared his throat. He wondered how long they'd been standing there in silence while he was conversing with himself.

"Hey, um, thank you. I know you took a risk bringing me back here. I won't... do anything, or tell anyone." The younger man was genuinely surprised by the mercenary's words. Maybe he hadn't given Deadpool enough credit for situational awareness. He smiled despite himself, genuinely feeling like he could trust the older man.

"No worries. I'm just glad there's not actually some monstrous villain out there capable of beating you."

Wade laughed, and the tension in the room was finally thoroughly dissipated. "I feel like there was a compliment hidden in there somewhere."

Peter turned his attention to the heap of spandex scraps next to the couch, walking over, picking up a handful and letting the pieces fall back on the pile. "Sorry. I kind of destroyed your suit. I'll pay to replace it."

Wade joined the younger man, kneeling next to the pile, sifting through the ragged pieces until he came to his belt. "Nah. It was already pretty torn up, and the most important part is still intact." He stood and put it on over the too-tight sweatpants digging into his hips. "Plus I've gotten pretty good at sewing!" Peter laughed in acquiescence, imagining the larger man bent over and meticulously stitching a quilt (in a rocking chair, wearing reading glasses).

"Alright. At least let me get you a bag to carry it in."

The younger man retrieved a black duffel bag from his closet, and in just a few minutes, all of the scraps had been loaded into it. Wade hefted the bag onto his shoulder and turned to face Peter. "Well, I guess I should be off then." They walked to the window, the younger man opening it in silence. Deadpool ducked out onto the fire escape, but hesitated. "Can I buy you a taco, Spidey? To say thanks?"

"Thanks, but I'll pass tonight. I'm pretty exhausted."

"Maybe in the future?"

Peter laughed. "Maybe."

With that, the merc was off, teleporting himself down to the street and disappearing into the nearest alley. Peter watched for a moment before shutting the window, pulling the curtains shut and trudging to the bathroom. He disrobed along the way, leaving his suit strewn across the floor, thankful to finally breathe freely again. He stood in the shower under the water for a long time, replaying the past couple of hours in his head, laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation. Pushing away the unwelcome memory of Deadpool naked that briefly flashed through his mind, he turned his thoughts to his newly altered opinion of the older man. _He may be a psychopath with questionable morals, but he really does seem like an alright guy. I actually feel like I can trust him. ...He is a psychopath though. Napping in an alley?_

Peter at last managed to will himself from under the hot stream of water. He walked naked to his bedroom while listlessly drying the water from his body, and flopped on his bed without bothering to even put on underwear. _The perks of living alone._

* * *

Wade had been **quite** tempted to spy on Spider-man, and on any other day, knowing exactly where the younger man lived, he would have in a heartbeat. But since Spidey'd been considerate enough to leave his mask in place when he had the perfect opportunity to remove it, he figured he was kind of obligated to respect the kid's privacy. He did, however, take a mental note of the exact building, floor, and location of the apartment while he was leaving (for a later date).

As he made his way back to his own apartment, Wade thought back on the evening's events. It'd been a good one: he finished a hit, gotten paid, had his favorite dinner from his favorite food truck, taken a nap, and gotten a sponge bath from his favorite sometimes-accomplice (who had then even referred to him as a friend!). He had doubted it when the kid first said it, but then he'd both shown his concern for Wade's well-being, and complimented him. _(That might be stretching it a bit.)_ Still, it was nice to feel like someone actually cared for him. _Maybe we can really be friends!_

When he'd finally reached home, Wade immediately shucked the too-tight sweatpants, and retrieved a sewing kit from his bedroom. He donned a pair of reading glasses over his mask, sat down with the duffel bag and sewing kit in his rocking chair, and got to work patching up his suit, chuckling to himself at how Spidey had almost fallen over when he'd seen him naked.

* * *

Unfortunately for Peter, who had really wanted nothing more than a good night's sleep after his trying evening, his brain seemed intent on self-punishment via exceedingly vivid dreams. He was laying on his couch while Deadpool hovered over him with a pair of scissors, cutting off his suit. Try as he might, he couldn't speak to let the merc know that he was awake, and couldn't move more than to squirm in place, which somehow didn't seem to catch his attention. Worse still, the older man pulled his mask off, not even stopping when he **saw** that Peter was awake. Not even reacting to seeing his face despite going out of his way to unmask him (or having the decency to cover up his nakedness). Peter wanted to thrash the merc, but could only lay writhing as he began wiping him down with a warm washcloth.

To his horror, he felt a twinge of arousal. _No no no no no..._ Deadpool's hands were running over his body way too gently; it was more like he was caressing him. Peter inhaled sharply (and would have gasped, had his mouth been working) when the merc grabbed his shoulder firmly, shifting him to run the washcloth down his side. Another sharp jolt of arousal coursed through his body, and he redoubled his efforts to yell and move, managing only a pitiful whimper and more squirming. He looked down, and was overwhelmed with shame when he saw he was erect. _NO NO NO..__**.**_ The older man again didn't make any outward indication of noticing, and only moved down to work on Peter's legs. The feeling of the mercenary's hands on his thighs was too much. Goosebumps worked their way down his spine, and his toes curled. _Oh god, please just touch me already..._ Peter was ashamed of the thought, and refused to even acknowledge that it'd crossed his mind, but it had, and continued to do so repeatedly over the next few torturous minutes. He was so close to release, but it just wouldn't seem to come. Pride and shame were temporarily suspended, and all he could think of was needing those damn hands to- _NO!_ He was stopping! Why was he stopping? Peter twisted his head to the side with sheer will, just about ready to beg the older man, but his eyes fell upon **that.** Despite being fully suited up, Deadpool's enviable endowment was out, and **very** hard. _Jesus H. Christ!_

With that, Peter jerked awake, and it slowly sank in that it'd all been a dream. He swallowed hard, still panting, his heart still racing, and his body still on fire with need. He didn't care about the circumstances; he was just happy to be able to move again, eagerly taking himself in his hand and pumping like his life depended on it. Curling up on his side with his face buried in his pillow, Peter moaned loudly while he worked himself back up to the brink until _finally, __**finally**_ a wave of pleasure like none he'd ever experienced before crashed down upon him with mind shattering intensity. He was vaguely aware of the sharp, hoarse cry that escaped his throat, but was much too busy trembling and writhing in ecstasy to fully register his own lewd display.

As the feeling slowly subsided, he turned to lay on his back, sprawled across the bed, breathless and sweaty. Pride and shame no longer suspended by blind need for release, Peter immediately began questioning himself. _What the hell was that?_

* * *

**A/N: **That's all for now, chickadees. I hope you're enjoying things so far. As before, feel free to provide constructive criticism/ideas, or just let me know what you think so far!


	3. Chapter 3

It had actually taken less time than one might expect for Peter to talk himself down after he had come to his senses. It's amazing what some basic scientific knowledge can do to assuage a person's self-doubt. Sex dreams are perfectly normal, and have no indication of actual sexual interest or orientation. Even more, the human body goes through bouts of sexual arousal during sleep that coincide with normal REM sleep cycles. If someone were to wake up from one of these, still sexually aroused, it's to be expected that they'd masturbate. Perfectly normal, perfectly natural. Sure, Peter still felt a tad awkward for having a sex dream about Deadpool, but, oh well. It's not like he could have helped it, and there were certainly worse people he could have dreamed of (Mr. Jameson, for example). There was no point in lingering on it. Peter figured it'd be a long time before he saw Deadpool again anyways, so even if he still felt awkward about it, it's not like they crossed paths very often. With that, Peter pushed the whole situation out of his mind.

That had been a couple of days ago. He had just finished with classes for the afternoon, and was ready for a few well-earned hours of relaxation before heading out to patrol. However, as he approached the building, he sensed that something was amiss, and cautiously made his way up to his apartment. Finding his door unlocked, he crept inside, adrenalin pumping through his veins, readying for a fight. Sneaking through the kitchen, he peered around the corner into the living room, only to find a certain mercenary lounging on his couch. The tension melted from his body, and he sighed loudly in a mixture of relief and frustration.

* * *

Wade jumped up at the noise, having just about dozed off while waiting for the kid to come home. He yawned and stretched while greeting him. "Hello!"

Peter's frustration waned rather quickly. He had actually expected Deadpool to be paying him a visit now that he knew where he lived. He just hadn't expected it to be so soon. He paid him little attention, first walking to his bedroom to drop off his backpack, then heading to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before finally mumbling a mildly exasperated "Hello." _There goes my downtime._

The younger man took a long drink of water before turning his attention back to the merc, who was sitting there like an expectant puppy. "Well, now you know where I live, what I look like, and my identity. I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you're not here to kill or threaten me, so to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Wade was pleasantly surprised to find the boy significantly less hostile than he'd expected. "Wellll, I noticed before I left the other night that I had messed up your couch pretty badly. Since you went out of your way to help me, I wanted to do something in return." He stood and stepped aside with a flourish reminiscent of a gameshow hostess, drawing Peter's attention to where he'd been sitting. He had been so distracted by Deadpool's presence, he hadn't even noticed the spotless new couch the older man had been resting on. He stepped forward to inspect it, not quite believing his eyes. It was a similar shade of blue, and about the same size, but the texture of the fabric and style led Peter to believe that it was a lot higher end than the little loveseat it replaced. "I did my best to get something the same color and style, but it's not exact. I hope it's alright..."

Wade trailed off, awaiting Peter's reaction. "I, um... You really didn't have to. I can't accept this." Peter ran his hand over the arm, amazed that something could be so soft and... plush. _Definitely a lot higher__ end._

"You don't like it?" The merc sounded considerably disheartened.

"No, no! It's not that. It's a very nice couch, but this looks like it was expensive. I really can't accept it!"

"But I want you to have it! I ruined your other one, and-"

"That wasn't your fault though! I'm the one that brought you back here. It's not like you came in here of your own volition and bled all over it!" Peter wasn't even sure what he was feeling. He was shocked that Deadpool of all people would have a conscience enough to feel the need to replace something that had been (mildly) damaged, and not even as a fault of his own. More and more he was starting to believe that he had wrongly judged the older man.

"Well, then at least consider it a token of my thanks. I don't think I know many people, if anyone at all, who would be willing to put their neck on the line to help me. It means a lot to me..." Wade trailed off again. The younger man really felt like there was no way he would be allowed to refuse, and simply hung his head in acceptance while flopping down on the couch, relishing the sensation as he sunk into the soft cushions, secretly happy that the merc was insistent. "Besides, it was really hard to get up here."

"What? Don't you have a teleporter?"

Wade sat back down on the opposite end. "Yeah, but it's tricky. When it's just me, it's no problem, but with something big, it's hard to judge where it'll end up. It'd kind of ruin the feeling if I destroyed your entire living room in the process."

Peter laughed in agreement. "I suppose. ... Thanks."

"No problem!" Peter could see the fabric of the merc's mask wrinkle with a smile, and felt the corners of his own mouth curling up. He'd definitely misjudged him. "So how about I treat you to that dinner now?"

* * *

After a short debate, the two agreed on ordering pizza, and settled in to watch cartoons while waiting for it to arrive. They chatted for a bit, or rather, Deadpool chatted a lot. He explained that the sweatpants Peter had loaned him were cleaned and folded, but that he had forgotten them. He described his harrowing journey maneuvering the couch up twelve flights of stairs by himself (since it wouldn't fit in the elevator). In particular, he gave the younger man a lengthy lecture on the superiority of Choco Tacos over any other ice cream truck confection. Wade finally talked himself into temporary exhaustion, and they fell into silence. After a few minutes, the merc spoke again.

"Wade Wilson, by the way." Peter looked up at him questioningly.

"My name. I'm Wade Wilson. I figure it's kind of rude to keep it a secret at this point."

"Oh... Nice to formally meet you then? By the way, your suit looks good as new. Did you actually patch it up yourself?"

Wade puffed up like a proud child showing off his prized toy. "Yeah. I told you I was good at sewing. I even make quilts from time to time." Peter couldn't contain his laughter. "No, really. Hey, I can make you a friendship quilt!"

The idea only made the younger man laugh harder. "Thanks, but I think the couch is more than enough for now." Wade said nothing more on the matter, but Peter got the feeling that he might end up with one anyways. When the doorbell rang, the merc insisted on getting it. He returned a few minutes later with the top box already open, stuffing a pizza crust in his mouth while feeling his way towards the couch. After almost crashing into Peter, he settled back into his spot, placing the box between them. The younger man reached for a slice and started eating, but his mind was a million miles away.

* * *

When Wade had been bumbling about, and almost run into him, it had specifically been his pelvis that almost collided with Peter's face. In an instant, memories of the older man naked forced their way into his head, which gave way to memories of his dream, which in turn gave way to memories of pleasuring himself afterwards. Embarrassment washed over him with an intensity greater than any he'd felt when the events actually occurred, and he found it considerably more difficult to swallow this time around with Deadpool right next to him.

After a few minutes of Peter making an effort to not look at him, Wade started to sense that something was amiss. "Is everything ok?" The younger man jumped, "What?"

"The pizza? Is it ok? You don't look like you're enjoying it."

"No, it's good..." They sat in silence for a moment. Peter felt even worse, well aware that he was acting off, and worrying the merc. He was trying his best to suppress his discomfort and act normally, but to no avail. Wade looked him over for a moment, quickly realizing that the kid was avoiding looking at him. His mind went to the most likely reason, remembering that his mask was up so he could eat, and that Spidey hadn't seen his face before. _He's probably grossed out. __(Of course he is. Who isn't?)_

"Sorry, I kind of forgot that you hadn't seen yet."

"What? I haven't seen what yet?"

"My face. I wasn't thinking. I forgot that you hadn't seen it yet." Peter sensed a change in the mood, but wasn't quite sure what had caused it. His guilt continued to worsen, knowing that his awkwardness had done something to make Wade feel uncomfortable. He finally looked up at him questioningly

"Your face?"

"You don't have to hide it. I'm used to people being put off by it. I'm sorry that I wasn't thinking."

It finally struck the younger man what Wade was talking about. He looked at his face, realizing that it was just as scarred as the rest of him. He honestly hadn't even registered it, but he realized that the merc must have mistaken his discomfort for disgust from seeing the exposed lower half while they were eating. He didn't feel the slightest twinge, but could guess what Wade had experienced in the past because of it.

"No, please don't apologize. I really hadn't noticed." He could sense the mercenary's disbelief, but continued. "I mean it. I was shocked when I first saw your body when I was cutting your suit off the other day, but I'd kind of assumed that the scars extended all the way up. It doesn't bother me at all, actually..."

The sincerity in the kids voice did a lot to convince Wade, but he had still definitely been avoiding looking at him. "Then why are you acting weird?"

Peter knew that there was no way that he could convince the older man otherwise. _I guess it was pretty obvious. I just- god, I can't stop thinking about that dream, and what I did now! Ahhh... think of something!_ He might have been smart, but the pressure to answer combined with his rapidly compounding embarrassment turned his brain to mush, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind before he could even attempt to filter himself. "Because I saw you naked!" The only sound between them was the noise of television, and of Wade swallowing loudly. The moment stretched on for an eternity in Peter's mind.

_That's it. I can't be friends with this man. I'm going to have to move away. I'm going to have to change my name. _Peter could feel the blood rushing to his face, and he looked away, staring holes in the wall while all too aware of Wade's eyes on him. The merc studied the kid, feeling more and more amused. Embarrassment was overwhelmingly apparent on his face and in his posture. The younger man winced when Wade started laughing, but also felt a bit relieved that he had accepted it. _Well, at least it's better than him knowing about that dream._

"Really!?" Wade couldn't manage any other words. _How pure!__ (Hey, at least he wasn't disgusted by our face!) __Who cares about that now? He's so funny. I like him!__ [But he also looks pretty horrified now that you're laughing at him.] (But it's funny!) [But you'll make him feel uncomfortable to be around us if you continue, and then he won't want to hang out.] __I don't want that._The merc did his best to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just funny that you'd be so shy about seeing me naked. Hey! How about to make things even, I'll look at you naked? Then you won't have to feel weird about it!"

As the merc spoke, he crawled towards him on the couch, and actually made an attempt to pull the edge of Peter's pants down to take a peek. To his delight, the kid actually managed to turn brighter shade of red, shouting in surprise and fighting to bat his hands off and push him away. At least he'd finally looked at him again.

Peter managed to wriggle away, pushing Wade away with a foot to his face. Despite his embarrassment, he found himself laughing as well. They calmed down, and sat at their respective ends of the couch.

"Alright, alright. I was just trying to help. Here, Spidey, eat some more pizza." Wade picked the box up off the ground, where it'd been kicked in their scuffle, and held it out for him to take. He accepted, and the two turned their attention back to the television and pizza. Peter felt strangely relieved, willing himself not to worry about the dream or subsequent actions. Despite embarrassing himself pretty severely, he was happy that he'd agreed to hang out with the older man.

Deadpool was also pretty happy that he'd been able to spend time with Spidey. It was the first friend he'd made in a while, and it was nice to have someone to relax around. It was also pretty amusing to see the usually straight-laced and quick-witted young hero outside of "work". After a couple less eventful hours of cartoons and the merc talking Peter's ear off, Wade stood and stretched. "Well, I guess I should be off. I have some work to do this evening, and I'm sure you have plenty yourself."

"Yeah, I should probably get out there and start making my rounds now that it's dark." Peter stood and stretched as well. The older man helped clean up their mess, and headed towards the fire escape.

"Thanks for having me over."

"Thanks for coming over, and for the couch, and for dinner. I had fun."

"Care to do it again in the near future?"

"Sure. Maybe same time next week?"

"Maybe." Wade grinned at the younger man, pulled down his mask, and disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Hello again, chickadees. It took me a tad longer than usual to get this chapter out, because I was being exceedingly indecisive about where I wanted the story to go, and how quickly I wanted it to get there. My apologies. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Wade was more excited than usual for tonight's movie night. It had been a little over two months since they started meeting every Thursday evening, but this was the first time Peter would be coming to his apartment, and he felt like a giddy schoolgirl before a sleepover. He had picked out a couple of ultra cheesy made-for-TV sci-fi movies, arranged to have a feast of Mexican delicacies delivered from his favorite food truck in about half an hour, and had even made an attempt to straighten up his living room. Peter would be arriving any moment now.

These days, the merc was always looking forward to the next time he got to hang out with Spidey. He had friends here and there, or at least people _he_ consider friends (though there was a part of him that knew they usually didn't feel the same), but it was a different situation with Peter. He was honest and upfront. Funny, too. He almost always had a joke to make, but he was also good at listening. He would sit patiently, nodding and commenting every now and then while Wade rambled on and on. Sure, there were subjects that they disagreed on (the older man's work ethic, and the joy he took in his job, for instance), but they still managed to get along pretty well.

* * *

One hilariously horrible movie and about five pounds of Mexican food later, both of them were splayed out across opposite ends of the couch, surrounded by assorted food wrappers. An air of mild binge-induced self loathing filling the room. They had gone a little overboard with dinner, and even Wade was silent for the duration of the first movie. As the credits rolled, Peter forced himself up from the too-comfortable armrest, and the older man peeled himself from his to switch the movies.

"Want some ice cream?"

"Oh god, please, no..." Peter laughed, "Maybe in a few days." He had brought a box of fudgsicles for them to eat after dinner, but the thought of consuming anything else at the moment made him nauseous. The older man flashed his usual wry grin, and sat back down.

Over the next half hour, Peter tried his best to stay awake, shaking his head, rubbing his eyes, and sitting up as straight as possible, but to no avail. The merc snickered as he watched the younger man slowly drift off from the corner of his eye. Spidey had mentioned that between work, classes, and studying for his upcoming midterms, he'd been burning the candle at both ends for the past several days, so Wade thought it best to leave him be. Not too interested in the movie without Peter awake to make funny faces at the terrible dialogue and special effects, the merc retrieved his sewing kit and the nearly completed friendship quilt he was making for him.

When Peter had been so desperately trying to remain conscious, he had scooted farther and farther towards to middle of the couch to keep himself from leaning on the armrest. Now that he'd finally succumbed to sleep, he had started to slump to the side, but had nothing to support himself on. He slowly slipped towards the merc until with a final flop, he practically fell into the merc's lap. Determined to let the kid get some sleep, Wade simply shifted to accommodate him, maneuvering him carefully to lay with his head on his shoulder, moving the quilt so it covered the younger man to keep him warm while he continued to work on it.

* * *

Peter stirred awake a few hours later. His head was cradled against some firm surface that gave off a pleasantly spicy-sweet scent, and the length of his body seemed to be held in a soft cocoon of warmth. He snuggled into whatever solid surface he was laying against, inhaling deeply while languidly sliding a hand and a leg over it, like a snake slithering over a sun-warmed rock to soak in its heat. He was vaguely aware his oh-so-comfortable foundation shifting beneath him, and of a faint, rhythmic thumping in his ear, but was so absorbed in the addictive combination of sensations that it took a few minute before he started to question it.

Slowly, a timeline of recent events began falling into place in his mind, eventually bringing him back to siting in Wade's apartment watching movies... and there it ended. _Oh. _Peter finally forced his eyes open in a snap, fighting lingering drowsiness, and jerked up. Or at least he attempted to, but was hindered by a pair of strong arms partially enveloping him. "Ouch!"

He looked up, and there was Wade, sucking on his index finger. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I just poked myself with the needle." Peter looked around, equal parts worried and confused, gathering what he could from their current too-intimate posture. The older man had been and still was reclining on the couch, and he'd apparently been curled up against him, Wade's arms wrapped around him to work on the quilt that was covering both of them.

"S-sorry..." Peter scurried from under the blanket to the opposite end of the couch, feeling his face heating up. The merc just tilted his head to the side, "It's no problem. It's already healed, see?" He held his finger out for Peter to inspect.

"No, I'm sorry for falling asleep on you." He tried to laugh, "I guess I just ate myself into a food coma."

"Oh! That's no problem either. You looked like you could use the sleep, so I didn't want to wake you." His mask wrinkled in a smile that only made Peter feel strangely more embarrassed instead of reassured, but he forced himself to smile back, "I just hope I didn't drool on you."

"Meh, there are worse stains to get out, " the older man noted nonchalantly, gathering the quilt and setting it aside.

Peter cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, looking around for a clock, groaning when he saw that it was already past 2:00 am. "I guess I should head home."

"You can just stay here for the night. It's already pretty late." Wade watched as the younger man stood and started gathering food wrappers, and joined him, knowing the kid would clean up everything on his own if he didn't intervene.

"Nah. I need to be up early. I have to meet for a group project for a class before me first lecture. Plus I desperately need a shower and a change of clothes." He laughed a made a face while tentatively sniffing himself. "I'm pretty sure I smell like a Taco Bell bathroom." The merc conceded, shooing him away from the rest of their accumulated mess, insisting he'd clean it up himself (eventually), and walking him to the door.

"Alright, I guess I'll see you the same time next week then." Peter nodded in agreement and left.

* * *

The kid had smiled and laughed, but Wade could tell that it was forced. _[I suppose he felt uncomfortable waking up on us.] __Indeed. __(Yep. Probably grossed out. __He is at that tender age where masculinity is important.) [He's not thirteen...] (Still, falling asleep on another guy probably weirded him out a bit.) __Indeed. __(He did turn pretty red. We should have woken him up.) [It'll be fine. He was probably just a little flustered.] __Indeed.__ [Are you going to contribute anything to the conversation?] __No. _

The merc wasn't too worried about Spidey acting strange. Despite his well maintained air of flippancy, the kid seemed to get embarrassed surprisingly easily, though he usually snapped out of it after a little while.

What weighed on Wade's mind more was realizing just how much he had missed extended physical contact with someone. He hadn't minded at all when Peter was laying on him. In fact, he liked it quite a bit. Not in a weird way, but just being close to someone and feeling the pressure and warmth of another body against his was comforting. Despite being lean and somewhat muscular, the kid was still pretty slim and delicate (at least as far as superheroes go), so he fit into his arms quite nicely. His skin was soft and smooth, so unlike his own, and despite his fears of smelling like a fast food toilet, Spidey actually smelled really nice. Even if just for his own slightly selfish desire for human contact, Wade wouldn't mind if he fell asleep on him more often.

* * *

Despite being utterly exhausted, Peter couldn't seem to fall asleep. He tossed and turned for who knows how long before finally giving up on trying to get comfortable, and simply laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling and wondering for the hundredth time what was wrong with him. His heart had started racing when he woke up on Wade, and hadn't stopped since. Now, try as he might, he couldn't seem to pry the memory from his mind. But why? Peter growled in frustration and kicked the blankets off. He knew exactly why.

It had been... too long since he'd been with someone. After moving out on his own, he hadn't had time for relationships. He missed the touch of another human more than his pride would allow him to admit, and the warmth and comfort of the merc's arms around him, and his sturdy chest beneath him had reminded him of it all to well. He had been so focused on school and work for so long that he had pushed intimacy aside completely, but the primal need for touch had been reignited inside of him, and he felt like he couldn't suppress it any longer. He was lonely.

The thought was unrelenting, and he continued to lay there stewing in his revelation until the first fingers of light started working their way through the curtains, and his alarm sounded. Groggy, and having not slept a wink since leaving Wade's apartment, Peter scraped himself off of the bedsheets, dreading the long day ahead of him.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** A special thanks to the user unlikey yaoi pairing for her many kind words that propelled my fingers forward to complete this chapter in record time. I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

By the time Peter trudged back into his apartment that afternoon, he was ready to just lay down and sleep on the kitchen floor. Mustering the last of his strength, he resisted the urge to do so and made his way to his bedroom. Work assignments, schoolwork, and patrolling could wait for now. He needed sleep before he could even start to think about being productive.

In all honesty, his day hadn't even been too trying. He was used to juggling school, work, and his duties as Spider-man. While preparing for midterms had pushed today up there on the difficulty scale, he had definitely had worse. What had drained him so thoroughly was the constant nagging realization of his loneliness, and the strong desire to be back on that couch with Wade. At the very least, he was so exhausted that he fell into a deep sleep mere seconds after collapsing into bed, and was spared lingering on the disruptive thoughts any longer.

* * *

It was already dark outside by the time Peter woke up. His spirits were high, and he was refreshed to the extent that he didn't feel the least bit guilty about sleeping away the afternoon. He wiggled around in bed, reluctant to leave its comfort just yet. Instead, he laid there making a mental to-do list of everything he had to get done that weekend, but the list lengthened rapidly, effectively ruining his relaxation. With a groan, Peter rolled out of bed, assuring himself that things would calm back down once he got through the coming week.

For now, since it was already late, Peter figured he deserved to devote the remainder of the evening to enjoying himself. Still feeling a little disgusted for gorging so excessively the previous night, he grabbed some fruit and a glass of water from the kitchen, flipped on the television to some late night infomercials (his guilty pleasure), and sunk into the couch. He munched his dinner, blankly staring at the two women on screen parade around a dozen different colored blenders. His mind gradually wandered back to the previous evening. He missed Wade.

Even though the older man had a knack for embarrassing him, or at least assisting in putting him in embarrassing situations, he had become a surprisingly important part of his life. Thursday evenings were when he could really mellow out and let go of the week's cumulative stress and troubles. Now that his stress levels were peaking, he craved the merc's soothing presence. Peter snorted at the thought. A couple of months ago, he would've never believed such a word would apply to Deadpool, but he had been proven very wrong. Yes, he talked incessantly, and often about a nonsensical, overlapping jumble of topics, and he was messy, and crass, but because of that Peter felt like he could actually just relax and enjoy himself in his company. There was no need to put on airs, or fear judgement. Wade was like an oasis in his demanding life, or a hyperactive puppy.

He momentarily considered just swinging by the older man's apartment right then, but the merc was usually out of town for work (it was still a mystery to Peter how he even managed to make it back every week for movie nights). He was actually kind of relieved that the older man was probably gone, since he was in the sort of mindset where he might just have asked him to spoon. He laughed to himself, wondering how Wade would react if he did. He was actually fairly certain the merc would agree, and the idea sent an odd surge of happiness through him. Again contemplating how lonely and contact-deprived he'd been lately, Peter started wishing that he hadn't pulled away from the older man so quickly the other evening.

He felt himself blush at the idea, feeling like his train of thought was rapidly twisting into something he wasn't sure he was ready to approach. Still, it had felt so nice to be held; to feel the warmth, and touch, and pressure of the merc's body against his. Peter swallowed, embarrassed to still be reminiscing over it, and of the shameful itch growing inside of him at the thought of the older man. Without even realizing it, he was already too far gone to stop himself. _No, this is wrong. I can't think of him like this. He's my friend!_ Even as Peter repeated those words to himself, his conscience was overpowered by a profound sense of longing. His self-restraint had been stretched too thin by now, and he squeezed his eyes shut in acquiescence to his lust, allowing himself to be consumed in fantasy. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling, and hesitantly slid his hand down the front of his pants.

Once again he was in Wade's living room. His back was pressed against the broad expanse of the older man's chest, and he could feel the heat and friction of his skin against his own. He could see the muscles moving in his scarred arms and hands as they moved to touch all over him, moved to touch him _there_. Peter submitted himself to those hands, savoring the way they traced every contour of his body hungrily, from his throat to his hips, to the gap between his thighs. He shivered and twitched. Weak whimpers worked their way from his lips. Wade nuzzled against the nape of his neck, his hot, ragged breaths dampening his skin there. Peter craned his neck to look back at the merc, barely able to keep his eyes open, the onslaught of pleasure from those hands having already worked him into a daze. Wade's rough lips curled into a lascivious grin, and all Peter wanted at that moment was to kiss him. But the older man wouldn't. He just kept grinning at him, watching the younger man desperately writhe in his arms, pumping his hand faster and faster until at last Peter fell apart in devastatingly delicious ecstasy, drowned in wave after crushing wave of searing pleasure as he released on his stomach, every muscle tensing and his strangled moans of pleasure echoing off the walls.

Reality slowly seeped back in, and once again Peter was sitting alone in his apartment. He looked down at his pants that had been haphazardly shoved down in his fervor, and his hands and stomach that were covered in sticky white shame. _What am I doing? Why..? Why Wade? What do I want from him?_ There was a part of him that was impressed by just how turned on the thought of the older man had made him, but a significantly larger part of him was just plain confused. _Am I... gay? No. No, that's not possible. I don't think I'd even be bisexual..._ Peter knew he wasn't just saying that to comfort himself. He had never before been attracted to a man, and would venture to guess that he never would be again. Maybe Wade was just a special case, and just maybe he had subconsciously known that for a while. Honestly, he felt pretty ok with that.

His main concern came not from the fact that the older man was indeed a man. He had always been confident enough in his sexuality to not worry about such things, even now that it was in question. Instead, it stemmed from the fact that they were friends, and it felt like some sort of dirty betrayal to think of him in such a way. Be that as it may, the evidence seemed undeniable: Peter Parker was smitten with Deadpool.

* * *

The next couple of days had passed quite normally for Peter. It had been a productive weekend, and he was feeling sufficiently prepared for his first midterm tomorrow morning. He had tried not to let himself get too distracted by his recent revelation with a decent amount of success, though he had caved a couple of times and let himself indulge in fantasy with minimal guilt. He had come to terms with the fact that he had feelings for Wade, but was still uncertain whether they were sincere or were born from his also newly realized loneliness. Regardless, he had started trying to brace himself for the next time they met so he wouldn't be an awkward mess.

Peter had showered, and was getting ready to head to bed when he heard a knock at his door. He could sense who it was, and just about sprinted to open the door, greeted by a mass of floral patterned material. It was Wade, carrying the friendship quilt he had been making for him.

"Greetings, Spidey!" Wade chimed while piling the quilt into Peter's arms.

"Hello!" Peter smiled wide, accepting the fluffy mass and stepping aside to let the merc in. He tried to hide his excess of excitement upon seeing him, but could tell he was failing. Luckily, Wade assumed he was just happy about his gift. The older man was glad that the kid had apparently gotten over his most recent bout of couch spooning-based embarrassment. He still gave off a somewhat nervous air, but he was smiling genuinely.

"Thank you for the quilt." Peter hugged it to his body, delighted when he caught a faint waft of the merc's scent on it. "I can't believe that you finished it so quickly..."

"I just brought it with me when I went on missions, and worked on it when I was doing surveillance, or scouting an area." He shrugged as though it was the most natural thing in the world for a grown man to be doing arts and crafts in his downtime while stalking the people he'd been hired to kill. Peter gave him a look, but didn't question him further on the topic.

"I don't suppose you have time to stay a while?" The younger man asked tentatively, looking up at him with feigned nonchalance.

"Unfortunately, not tonight, Spidey. Duty calls!" Wade snickered at the word 'duty', but his amusement was cut short when he noticed how dejection immediately filled the kid's big hazel eyes. Peter scratched the back of his head with his free hand and turned away, still holding the quilt tightly to his chest.

"Ah, of course. Then I guess I'll see you this Thursday?" The tone of his voice was such that, for a moment, the merc seriously considered canceling his hit for the evening. _Aw... He looks so sad! Why does he look so sad?_There was a little spark of something inside of him at that moment that he couldn't quite place. After a significant, albeit brief internal conflict, Wade smiled weakly and nodded.

"See you Thursday." He headed back for the door, but hesitated. "I have a surprise for you that I think you'll like." Peter seemed to brighten a bit and bid him goodbye.

* * *

Wade did not have a surprise ready. He had said it spur of the moment, just wanting to say something to lighten the kid's mood a little. He'd been caught off guard when Peter looked at him that way, and felt strangely guilty for leaving. (He had hoped, but not expected that the kid might be as invested in their friendship as he was.) He had wanted to stay, really. If it were up to him, they'd hang out all the time, but his work as a mercenary had him traveling to all sorts of places, often for extended periods of time. It was only by working efficiently during the rest of the week that he was able to make time every Thursday, and he didn't want to ruin their ritual. Now he had to think up something exciting for Spidey.

_I can dress up in drag... [No, we've done that too many times before.] But it's fun! [Yes, but it's supposed to be for him, not our own entertainment.] I'm going to do it anyways... _He let the idea drop for now, figuring he'd think of something closer to time, needing to focus on work for the time being.

* * *

After Wade had left, Peter curled up on his bed, wrapped in the quilt. He laid there shamelessly nuzzling against the fabric and inhaling the lingering scent of the merc. If he hadn't been before, he was now absolutely certain that he had it bad for Wade.

Over the next few days, between exams, Peter obsessed over what might be in store for him that Thursday. Somehow he managed to restrain himself and the ever increasing distraction that his crush had become, and made it through the week without spiraling out of control. After he finished his last midterm on Thursday afternoon, he practically skipped home, eager to see Wade again. Through a short text conversation the day before, they had agreed to meet at the merc's apartment again. Peter took a quick shower, and then sat around his apartment, restlessly willing time to pass faster. Finally, 6:00 rolled around.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Hello, all! Sickness has hindered my progress for the past few days, so it took a bit longer than usual to get this chapter out. I also feel like my fever inhibited my ability to focus and write normal, coherent sentences. Here's hoping it all got worked out in the editing stage! I should be back on track in the next few days.

Also, additional thanks to Ie-maru, LokiHetfield, and polar-bear-luv for their kind words.

* * *

In his excitement, Peter ending up arriving at Wade's apartment a bit earlier than their agreed upon 6:30 meeting time. He waited for a few minutes before knocking, pacing the length of the hall nervously, trying to prepare himself to act as normally as possible; a difficult task since he had been using the older man as masturbation fodder over the past few days. After a few seconds of muffled banging, the door flew open, and there stood Wade in an apron and the kind of dress that Peter imagined a 1950's housewife would wear (a light pink and white checkered number with a full, knee-length skirt, half-length sleeves, and a high button-up collar that was straining at the seams over the man's bulking muscles). Before Peter could even fully process what he was seeing, the merc turned with his rear poking out towards him, looking over his shoulder with one hand on his knee and the other coyly cupping his cheek, and greeted the younger man in a sultry drawl.

"Hello, Petey. Would you like a bath, dinner, or me?" He wiggled his hips for effect.

Peter looked him up and down once, took a step backwards, and slowly closed the door between them. _'Or me?'... '__**Or me?**__'... _Wade rushed to reopen the door, and dragged him inside. "Wait, wait! I was kidding!" Despite his face burning from Wade's jokingly flirtatious proposition, Peter was accustomed enough to the man's sense of humor by now to brush it off and laugh along with him.

"Is this your surprise?"

"No, no. That will come later. For now, dinner!" Wade guided Peter to the kitchen and motioned for him to sit at the table. He complied and watched with growing interest as the older man flipped and stirred the contents of multiple pans on the stove, chattering away about a tangled string of topics the younger man tried but failed to follow. After a few minutes, the merc set a plate in front of him, piled high with crispy bacon and fluffy pancakes, topped with a dollop of melting butter, and drizzled generously with steaming blueberry sauce. Peter stared wide-eyed for a few seconds.

"I... I didn't know you could cook!" Wade poured a glass of orange juice and set it in front of him.

"I'll have you know that I am quite the domestic diva." He stood with his hands on his hips, his voice pitched with an incredulous inflection. "I'll be a wonderful wife someday!" Peter choked on a mouthful of juice. Between laughing and coughing, it took him a few minutes to compose himself enough to start eating, but when he finally took his first bite, he checked off yet another area in which he had greatly underestimated the older man.

While they ate, the merc informed Peter that he had prepared everything for a sleepover, insisting that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. The younger man gave in with little resistance, equal parts excited and nervous to be around Wade for such a lengthy period of time, and still quite curious about the supposed surprise awaiting him later in the evening.

* * *

After cleaning up and Wade changing into normal clothes, they settled in to watch an assortment of hilariously bad horror movies. A few hours passed uneventfully until Peter was struggling to keep his eyes open, and suggested that they turn in for the evening. Wade checked the time, and instead bid him to follow as he left the apartment. They climbed several flights of stairs, the merc rambling along the way that it had been too cloudy earlier, but that the forecast had said it should be cleared up sufficiently to see by then. As they stepped out into the crisp night air, now standing in the open on the roof of the building, Peter looked around, noting only a telescope set up near the edge. The older man stopped, turning to face him as he gestured up to the sky.

"I bought you a star. Or, rather, I got it named after you. None of that cheap, unofficial, money scam name assignment. This one is International Astronomical Union legit. It's a red giant! I thought that suited you best..." They stood in silence for a moment, the sound of scant traffic on the streets far below filling the space between them.

"A star?"

"A star." More silence. "I'll show you!" Wade led him to the telescope at the edge of the building, adjusting the knobs slightly before prompting him to look through. "It's a little hard to see because of the light pollution, but it's there in the center..." He shifted back and forth on his toes, waiting for Peter to react. After a few minutes, the younger man stepped back and faced the merc.

"It's beautiful. Thank you." He smiled, but to Wade, it looked a little sad, and the older man couldn't help but worry as the kid moved to sit with his feet dangling from the side of the building. Peter looked up at the sky and chuckled quietly.

"Why are you always so nice to me?" The merc was a little surprised by the question, but moved to sit next to him as he considered his response.

"I, um... Well... It's pretty hard for me to find friends. Most people don't want to be around me for very long, if at all. My brain is constantly changing, being damaged and healing back in a different way, and I know that makes me pretty volatile and, well, crazy..." Peter glanced over at Wade. He was gazing into the distance, and though he still had his mask on, the merc's grief was conveyed in his posture, and palpable as he spoke. His voice had taken on a tone the younger man had never heard before. "I was lonely for a very long time. Everything hurts all the time, and it's an understatement to say that I've been obsessed with finding a way to die since this happened." He motioned towards the cancerous scars covering his exposed arms.

"But... since I met you, little by little, everything's gotten a bit more bearable. Even since before we became friends, I always looked up to you. I wanted to be like Spider-man. You're the ideal hero, always doing what's right. A real 'good guy'. The fact that you're willing to be around someone like me makes me feel like maybe I'm not a lost cause. Your friendship means a lot to me, and... not to sound weird or cheesy, but you... kind of... saved me."

Peter was stunned. His mind was reeling, his heart was in his throat, and his mouth was suddenly very dry. He swallowed, hoping Wade wouldn't hear his voice wavering as he spoke.

"I could very well say the same to you. Ever since I gained my powers, people that I love have been dying because of me. I forced myself to be alone for a long time to keep it from happening again. I even moved out on my own, even though I really couldn't afford to, just to keep my aunt safe." The merc was staring intently at him, and he was thankful that is was dark, afraid of just how much his face might give away if Wade could see him properly. "Maybe it's a bit selfish of me, considering what you've been through because of it, but it's actually a relief to have a friend who can't die." Peter smiled weakly, "I don't have to worry about losing you."

Wade was silent for a moment, and the younger man started to panic, afraid that he'd said something offensive or off-putting, but the merc's mask wrinkled in a familiar fashion, indicative of his usual wide grin. A wave of relief washed over him. Neither of them said a word for several minutes, both peering out over the city below.

"Really, though. A star? How did you even...? Why?"

"Well, you were definitely surprised, right?" Peter could only laugh in agreement. After a while longer, Wade suggested they head back inside, cryptically mentioning in their descent something about knowing someone at the IAU who owed him.

* * *

Peter couldn't sleep.

After they had come inside, Wade had presented him with an adult-sized pair of footie pajamas bearing, of course, Deadpool's signature colors. At the older man's behest, he went to take a shower. He was impressed to see that the merc had indeed prepared everything he'd need, all the way down to an extensive assortment of travel sized toiletries laid out across the counter like a five-star hotel. He had undressed and was about to step into the shower when Wade walked in and nonchalantly started undressing as well. Peter had sputtered and shouted, shoving Wade out and locking the door behind him despite the older man's pouting and resistance. He'd had to stand under cold water for several minutes to calm himself down afterwards, and was shivering by the time he got out. _What the hell is he thinking, coming in here and taking his shirt off like that? God, what am I thinking!? I should have exploited the hell out of that! No, no no no. This is for the best. I got excited just seeing him unbutton his pants. What would I have done if he was naked and lathered up next to me in tight quarters. _Peter had to step back in the shower for a few more minutes, cursing himself for his overactive imagination. _No, it's definitely for the best. He's my friend, and I can't abuse his trust to leer at him. _

Exercising the limits of his mental fortitude, he forced the thought from his mind, got dressed, brushed his teeth, and joined Wade in his bedroom, amused but strangely unfazed to see the older man wearing his very own set of Spider-man themed footie pajamas. The merc had informed him earlier that they'd be sleeping in his bed together, assuring him that it was large enough to accommodate both of them comfortably. It was indeed quite large, but Peter was still a little concerned, promising himself that he'd just lay as far away as possible to avoid inappropriate contact, determined to behave himself.

Wade, however, had different plans. "Just to warn you, I'm a spooner," only vocalizing the fact after both of them were laying down, and he was already scooting his way across the mattress towards the younger man. Rambling about skinship and male bonding, he just barely managed to grab Peter around the waist as he almost rolled out of the bed in an effort to evade the older man's grasp. After a brief and pathetic struggle that mostly involved the merc manhandling him into position, Peter conceded to playing the role of little spoon. All he could do was hope the older man wouldn't hear his pulse racing out of control. Happy to have won their scuffle, Wade chirped a gleeful 'goodnight', snuggling closer to the kid so he was pressed flush against his back.

The merc was soon quietly snoring against his neck, but, after what felt like hours, Peter was still awake. His mind was a chaotic mess. Strangely enough, it wasn't even his close proximity to Wade that had left him so unsettled. It had rattled him initially, but after his heart had eventually stopped pounding from embarrassment and excitement, he was left remembering the merc's words from when they were on the roof. He was overwhelmingly flattered that Wade considered his existence important, but somehow, at the same time, it hurt. There was an ever-present guilt that gnawed at him for having feelings for Wade, combined with a deep hopelessness, knowing that they wouldn't be reciprocated. He wanted more than the man could give him, and the realization left him feeling hollow.

Finally, forcibly pulling himself out of his mental rut, telling himself there was no point in stewing in negativity, Peter resolved to just be the best friend he could be to the merc. Deny, deny, deny. That's what he planned to do, hoping the old adage 'fake it 'til you feel it' would prove effective. He shifted to face the older man, burrowing deeper into his hold to nuzzle against his chest, telling himself that this would be his last act of selfishness towards Wade, to just savor that moment before abandoning his feelings completely. He sighed in resignation, but his mind finally started to wind down, and he was eventually lulled to sleep by the soothing metronome of the merc's heart beating quietly in his ear.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Well, another slow update, but this chapter ended up being a bit longer than any of the previous ones. It also contains an... _interesting_ scene that took a little longer to work the kinks out of. I hope you enjoy!

Also, thanks to Marion, donnyd312, Time, and the anonymous reviewers, whose kinds words pushed me through the arduous task of editing and re-editing this chapter.

* * *

By the time Wade woke up, the sun was already high in the sky, filtering through the blinds to set the entire room aflame in an orange glow. It took a moment for his eyes to stop burning in bright light, but when the world around him finally came into focus, he was met by the serene sleeping face of Peter.

Memories of the previous evening came rushing back to greet him, and he couldn't help but smile like a fool. It had been a long time since he had felt like he had a purpose other than to make money, or desperately try to find a way to die, but he had one now, even if it was just to be a friend to the kid. Spidey confiding in him that his immortality gave him peace of mind was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. Someone cared if he was alive! He felt needed. Not just needed though. **W****anted**. Wade wrapped his arm around Peter's waist and pulled him closer, into a hug.

After a few minutes of laying there, just enjoying the warmth, Wade began considering getting up to make breakfast, but felt himself somewhat hindered by their current positioning. One arm was pinned by the kid's head resting on it, their legs were tangled together, and Spidey's fingers were limply intertwined with the fabric of the front of his pajamas. The merc momentarily pondered how to best free himself (admittedly reluctant to do so), but was distracted when the kid shifted in his sleep, sighing softly while nuzzling against his chest. There was a little, almost imperceptible spark that shot through his entire body at the innocent display, and Wade was suddenly exceedingly aware of their closeness.

Swallowing against the odd dryness in his mouth, he looked over Spidey again. His pajamas hung loosely from his slender frame, the top few buttons undone, exposing his shoulder and a thin sliver of his toned chest, shadows playing teasingly over his pale skin. The light from the window illuminated the soft contours of his face and throat like smooth alabaster, and set his hair aglow like strands of polished copper. The merc laid there a bit longer until his stomach protested in hunger, drawing him from his reverie. _He certainly is a cutie._

Wade finally slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, briefly pressing his masked lips to Petey's forehead. Deciding he could wait a bit longer before preparing breakfast, he first headed to the bathroom for the shower he didn't get to take the previous evening.

* * *

Peter awoke to the distant sound of utensils clinking, and the sweet aroma of cinnamon. He sat on the edge of the bed, stretching and rubbing his eyes, mentally giving himself a quick pep talk/reminder that he needed to reign in his inappropriate thoughts of Wade. He stood with a sigh and shuffled his way to the kitchen. The last remnants of exhaustion were jarred from his body upon entering, finding the older man turned with his back to him, bending over to pull something out of the over, wearing nothing but a pair of tight boxer briefs under his frilly pink apron (Spider-man-themed, naturally).

The younger man actually yelped in surprise, stumbling backwards, drawing the merc's attention.

"Morning! I hope you're hungry!"

_Oh, am I... No! Bad! Friends, just friends._ Peter lowered his eyes, mumbling a comparatively less-cheerful greeting as he sat at the kitchen table, willing himself not to stare. After a few difficult minutes of wrangling in his wandering eyes, Wade set a plate in front of him.

"Fruit, eggs, sausage, and cinnamon rolls. Everything a growing boy needs!" The bottom half of his mask had already been pushed up, and his wide grin made Peter flinch. "All homemade and lovingly prepared, of course. Only the very best for my Spidey!" _Friends, dammit! Just friends..._ Peter smiled weakly, making a joke about expecting dinner for breakfast after last night, focusing his attention on the plate while the merc chattered away.

He was so absorbed in his food that he didn't even notice when the older man stopped speaking. Wade was eyeing him intently, sensing something was off. "Is everything ok?" No response. "Petey?" Nothing. Wade shifted in his seat, leaning forward to poke the kid's arm. "Peter?" He watched with a mixture of mild concern and amusement as he jumped, looking around in panicked confusion before looking up at the merc. Somehow, the older man thought he looked like a guilty little puppy. "You ok?" He felt the corners of his mouth curling as the kid turned a lovely shade of pink, nodding vigorously while averting his eyes.

"Y-yeah! I'm good." Peter cleared his throat. "Sorry. I just- I was distracted by how delicious everything is..." He trailed off, pretending to be preoccupied with shoveling more food into his mouth, cursing Wade for having such a damnably charismatic smile. At least the man seemed appeased, grinning at the compliment and continuing his monologue. Peter made an effort to appear engaged in the one-sided conversation, nodding now and then, and occasionally chancing a quick glance at the merc, but, oh, did he regret it ever time he did. Despite his best efforts, it was nearly impossible to keep his eyes from trailing over the older man's chest and shoulders, barely covered by the apron, and each bite was becoming progressively harder to swallow. The way his muscles flexed and rippled fluidly beneath his scarred skin with every tiny movement was mesmerizing. Peter's imagination willfully began to extrapolate how they'd look and feel if he was nice and sweaty. Maybe on top of him, forcefully pinning him down while those rough lips worked their way down his neck? Or perhaps if Wade forced his way between his thighs, how much force could those muscles generate if he were thrusting into him? A familiar tremor surged through his pelvis, snapping him out of his fantasy.

Peter stood up suddenly, almost knocking his chair over in the process, cutting the merc off in the middle of a sentence, nearly shouting in his panic.

"I need to go home now!" Wade stared up at him, silent for a moment.

"Ok... Um, your clothes are cleaned and folded on the bathroom counter, if you'd like to change first..."

Peter attempted a smile, excusing himself, trying to gather his composure while he changed. Wade was still sitting at the table when he returned to the kitchen, significantly calmer, having used his time in the bathroom to formulate a believable excuse.

"Sorry about that. I'm still just kind of stressed out from midterms, and I remembered that I need to be on campus early to meet with a professor before my first lecture." He rubbed the back of his neck ruefully, glancing up at Wade, who just chuckled.

"You deal with baddies trying to kill you on a daily basis, and you have a conniption over being a little late?" Peter laughed. _If only you knew..._

After gathering all of his things, Peter walked to the door, the merc trailing behind while they finalized their plans for the next movie night. The kid took a step into the hallway and turned to face Wade.

"Thanks for having me over, and for... everything."

"No problem. Well, see you next week, sweetums. Have a good day at school!" The merc leaned forward, closing his eyes and puckering up his lips for a kiss, awaiting the inevitable smack or aloof comment Spidey usually gave him when he tried to jokingly flirt. Instead, he was hit even harder by shock when he felt soft pressure against his lips. His eyes snapped open, but Peter was already sprinting down the hall, looking over his shoulder to stick his tongue out at the merc, laughing as he disappeared around a corner at the end of the hall.

Wade took a step back, quietly shutting the door as the blood rushed to his head. _He kissed me. Petey actually kissed me..._He reached up to touch his lips, giggling to himself, moving to cup his face in his hands as he wiggled happily. _(Eh, he was probably just trying to appease us, since we're always harassing him.) __No, don't ruin the magic. It was a true friendship kiss!__[He was laughing though...] __Shut up, and let me enjoy this! I mean, he always just brushes me off, but not this time!__ (Maybe... And he did let us snuggle him last night!) [Well, we kind of forced him into that. He just gave up and let it happen.] __Still, he let it happen! This is advanced friendship! This is... **best** friendship!_

* * *

_What was I thinking!?_ Peter had ended up running all the way home, and was now leaning against his door, panting and grumbling at himself for his stupidity. He had acted on impulse, wanting to get back at Wade some way for always teasingly flirting with him. Well, of course he had wanted to kiss him in general, but in the moment, it had mostly been an immature attempt at revenge against the older man for always trying to canoodle with him. His feelings were confusing and torturous enough without the merc trying to jump in the shower with him, or spoon him, or parade around in his underwear, so he'd wanted to shock him a little by giving him a taste of his own boundary-violating medicine. Of course, the kiss had probably had a much larger and more negative impact on him than on Wade, since the older man would probably laugh it off as a 'friendship kiss', and he'd be stuck cursing himself and obsessing over it. _A great way to start off my 'let's just be friends' schtick._

Peter sighed in frustration, making his way to his bedroom to gather his things for class, figuring the best way to distract himself was to focus on work and school. He cringed as he remembered the scene he made at breakfast. He had only reacted so excessively from shock. Sure, it was embarrassing to catch himself daydreaming about the merc while sitting right across the table from him, but what had really caught him off-guard was the content. He had fantasized about Wade often enough, but it had only ever involved touching. This time, somehow, his mind had jumped to... **that**.

He felt his face burning at the memory. He knew exactly what sex with a man entailed, as he knew that he was attracted to Wade, but he'd never put the two concepts together and considered actually having sex with him. When he was sitting there letting his mind wander, it had kind of just naturally led to the idea of Wade... inside of him. He would have never before believed that he'd be turned on by the thought of being a bottom to anyone, and the idea dually filled him with overwhelming desire and immense terror. _Of course, just as I'm trying to stop myself from thinking about him romantically, I start daydreaming about him doing me. God help me... Ok, alright, don't worry. Just don't think about it. There's a week until I have to see him again. That's plenty of time to get ahold of myself. Remember: just a friend. _

Peter rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. He continued to repeat his mantra, telling himself that he just had to exert a little willpower. Everything would be fine soon enough, and these silly misplaced feelings would eventually dissipate.

* * *

It had been almost two weeks since Peter had made the mistake of kissing Wade, and his regret had continued to grow with every passing day. The merc had apparently taken his thoughtless action to be a sort of green light to the next stage of their friendship, and had since started harassing him for a repeat. Not just on their last movie night, either. The older man had very obviously been making up every possible excuse to drop by his apartment in the days between, and every time he went to leave, he would stand in the door with his lips puckered expectantly until Peter managed to push him out and lock the door between them. Even after he explained to Wade that he had only kissed him in the first place to throw him off, as revenge, the merc had relented, insisting instead that now it shouldn't be a problem, since they'd already done it anyways.

It was torture. Peter might have been happy that the merc was so intent upon locking lips with him, but it was ruined by the knowledge that this was purely Wade having fun. It didn't mean anything to him. The torment was only compounded since Peter was trying his damnedest to reform his straying feelings back to platonic, which was difficult to do when the object of his affection was constantly prodding him for a kiss.

It was their second movie night since his regrettable lapse in judgement, and Wade was still persisting to the point that Peter's stress and irritation were reaching a boiling point. He spent most of the night cycling through cursing himself, cursing the merc, and wishing that he had made an excuse to not come that evening. Finally, it was late enough for Peter to excuse himself. The merc followed him to the door, pouting while reiterating his usual argument of kissing between friends being 'no big deal', especially since they'd 'already done it'. Looking back as he reached for the door handle, a surge of frustration and lust washed over Peter. His self-restraint finally snapped.

Wade sometimes forgot that the kid was endowed with super powers, more used to seeing him as Peter Parker than Spider-man these days, so he was thrown off guard when Peter jumped him at lightning speed, grabbing the front of his shirt and roughly shoving him back so the edge of the kitchen table was pressing painfully against his lower back. Anger was quite evident in his expression, and in his voice as he hissed in Wade's ear, low but venomous, "Fine, have it your way, you insufferable ass."

The merc's eyes were as wide as saucers under his mask. All the muscles in his body tensed, and he braced himself with both hands on the table behind him, fully expecting to punched. _[There. Now we've done it. We've harassed him into hating us. We've succeeded in driving away one of the very few people capable of tolerating us. Good job.] _Wade flinched, closing his eyes as Peter's hand moved towards his face. He felt his mask being yanked up to expose the bottom half of his face, and a forceful hand grabbing him by the throat. Rather than being strangled though, he felt the same gentle pressure against his mouth. However, instead of a chaste peck like he'd received before, this one rapidly grew wet and insistent.

Wade stood paralyzed as his mouth was devoured, his mind blank to everything but the sensation of the kiss, unable and unwilling to push the kid away. Instead, he reciprocated, hesitant at first, afraid any sudden movement might result in Peter running away again. Slowly and deliberately, he worked his tongue into the kid's mouth, slipping his hands around to cradle Peter's head for leverage, running his fingers through his soft locks of hair. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he sure as hell didn't want to stop.

The merc was drunk with pleasure, feeling himself drowning in the sweet, wet warmth of Peter's mouth and the slippery friction of their lips. He chanced to pull back, nibbling the kid's swollen bottom lip, delighted when the action elicited a shaky whimper from him. A hunger like he'd never felt before was growing inside of Wade. He felt like his body was acting on its own as his hands moved to grab Peter's wrists, quickly flipping him onto his back, pinning him down.

Peter moaned sharply, twisting up off of the table as Wade licked and sucked down his throat, feeling something distinctively hard pressing deliciously between his thighs. He had been helpless against the inundation of pleasure that had crashed over him the moment their lips met, completely losing control as the older man quickly matched and surpassed the ferocity of his kiss. His mind was simply refusing to function, and he could only lay there as he was ravaged. Wade released his tight grip on his wrists, trailing his fingers down to caress his hips and sides. Tremors worked their way down Peter's spine, and he felt a strangled moan forming in his throat that was cut short, silenced when the older man's tongue was once more eagerly exploring the depths of his mouth.

The kid was shaking and writhing uncontrollably under Wade, fueling his desire even more. His mind was growing increasingly cloudy, and the only thought repeating in his mind was he need for more. He felt Peter's hands graze over his shoulders, moving to hold him tightly as his hips rocked up against him, a feral growl escaping the merc's throat in response. In the back of his mind, he knew he was pushing this far beyond the limits of a joke between friends, but he couldn't stop himself. He slipped his hands between them, moving to unbutton the kid's pants, quite ready to slip them off and ride this situation as far into the sunset as he could.

All at once, the fog enveloping Peter's brain lifted. The merc was fiddling with the front of his pants, and he was sure Wade wouldn't stop unless he made him. The thought of just giving in and letting Wade take him briefly crossed his mind, and though the thought sent a shiver of excitement through him, he knew all that would do was utterly ruin things between them.

For the merc, this was probably just scratching an itch, a natural follow-up to a kiss. In fact, he was fairly certain that Wade would do this with anyone who kissed him: he just didn't care about that kind of thing. Peter could let it happen, but all that would come of it was more painful, confusing, unreciprocated feelings. Though his will was already in tatters, a mixture of self-respect and dejection served to pry him out of passivity. Mustering up the remaining dregs of his strength, Peter pushed Wade away.

Wade was caught off guard when the kiss was abruptly broken, and tried to resume, but the kid's hands were firm against his chest and he knew that was the end of their little impromptu tryst. Peter sat up, but remained leaning on the edge of the table, his gaze averted for a few long seconds. The merc could tell that he had pushed too far, taking a step back and watching the kid intently, waiting for some cue to take. Peter was still panting, still blushing as he licked his lips and swallowed. He finally looked up at the older man, sidelong through half-lidded eyes, speaking in a low but steady tone.

"That's enough. There. Now leave me the hell alone about it." Wade was still in shock as Peter stood and ducked past him. "See you next week," he mutter without emotion, closing the door silently without another word.

* * *

_[Now you've really done it. You've been pestering him incessantly to kiss you for the past two weeks, after he jokingly did so to try to get you to stop sexually harassing him all the time. He finally does again to shut you up, and you pin him to the table and try to take his pants off.] (Good job, buddy. You know he likes ladies. **You** like ladies, but you were still trying to get in his pants. He wasn't kidding when he called us an insufferable ass.)_ _[He didn't even want to kiss us in the first place. You heard his voice. He never spoke to us like that, even before we were friends when we fought each other. Imagine how disgusted he must be...]_ The voices were very accusing today, not that he blamed them.

Wade was stricken by a wave of guilt. He knew Peter had a large personal bubble and wasn't one for physical contact, but he always liked to tease him, and to violate that bubble. It was funny to see his reaction; to see the stern and witty Spider-man get all flustered and turn so red. He had gone too far. He felt a jolt of fear, wondering if he had scared him away for good.

_He did say that he'd see me next week. Maybe it'll be alright. [Yeah, but you saw the look on his face.] (You ruined it.) I'll apologize! We're good enough friends now. If I just say I'm sorry, everything will be ok. [Maybe. Maybe not.]_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Hello again! Here's another comparatively lengthy chapter. I hope you enjoy!

Thanks to carolinthesheep, Lokihetfield, Ie-maru, donnyd312, unlikey yaoi pairing, and Requiescat in Pace il Ti Amor! So many kind words! :D You're all lovely and excellent, and I thoroughly appreciate the support. (Thank you too, anonymous guest!)

* * *

It hadn't taken Wade long to come to conclusion that he'd need to apologize to Peter in person. This wasn't the kind of situation that could be rectified with a simple text. However, his best efforts to do so proved futile. He stopped by the kid's apartment several times, waited by the door for almost an hour on a couple of occasions, and even tried searching the city, from the Daily Bugle to Peter's university. After two fruitless days, he finally gave in and resorted to texting out of desperation. To his relief, Spidey actually responded, telling him everything was fine and that he'd see him that Thursday. The merc was still quite anxious, not quite convinced by the kid's curt responses, but figured there wasn't much more he could do until he was able to talk to him in person. He decided to try to be patient for the next few days, and use the time in between to formulate a suitable apology.

* * *

Peter, on the other hand, was a bit of a mess. Honestly, he'd been doing his damnedest to avoid Wade, hiding whenever he sensed him nearby. He had even sat in his bedroom closet for several minutes more than once in the past couple of days, so afraid of seeing the older man when he came knocking at his door. All he wanted was a few days to himself to think things through. He felt guilty for avoiding Wade, but he was certain that he couldn't handle seeing him just yet. He at least made sure the merc knew that everything was ok (or would be, eventually), and that he'd still meet for the next movie night. Luckily, that seemed to appease the older man, as he stopped dropping by.

The days slipped by, running together as mere background noise. He was too consumed with alternating between cruelly chastising himself for his actions, and desperately trying to relive them. The cycle would start with him wishing he'd never kissed Wade in the first place, telling himself none of this would have happened if he hadn't acted spur-of-the-moment. This was immediately followed by regret for having lost control a **second** time, giving in to the merc's goading. If only he'd been able to ignore the older man's pestering for a bit longer, he'd probably have eventually lost interest and stopped pestering him. Then, of course, this led to the issue of having so immediately, submissively melted in Wade's arms, allowing him take it way, way across the line.

In spite of all of his self-berating, around this point, Peter would start mulling over the way the merc had pinned him, the way he'd touched and kissed him so fiercely. He knew there was no point in wondering why, sure that Wade had just been caught up in the moment. Still, the older man had definitely been about to take his pants off. Even if he was just going with the flow, it nonetheless indicated that he'd not only been willing to have sex with Peter, but was willing to initiate it.

The idea sprung forth a tiny glimmer of hope that he didn't want. He was all too aware that a willingness to have sex with a person didn't equate to liking them, or even being attracted to them. Sometimes it really was only about scratching an itch with the first willing person. He tried not to acknowledge the unwelcome feeling, but it remained there, persistent, which of course only lead to another barrage of confusion and belittling. His mind was going in loops for days without making any progress, but what he hated the most though was feeling out of control. He was well aware that he was talking himself in circles, stewing in his own negativity, but he couldn't seem to drag himself out of it. He felt like an idiotic, immature kid.

By Thursday morning, he was in the same sorry state: haggard, mentally drained, and sure that he was still nowhere near ready to see the merc again.

* * *

Wade couldn't recall ever feeling quite so anxious. He'd forgone a big hit just to spend more time preparing the best "I'm Sorry I'm An Insufferable Ass & I Promise I Won't Do It Again" dinner he could. He even made a banner; glitter, streamers, stick-figure Deadpool groveling at the feet of stick-figure Spider-man (complete with googly eyes for added effect), the works!

Hell, not just a banner either. He never cared much for cleaning up, and though he could cook rather well, he usually didn't bother to since it was so much easier to go out (he only pulled out the pots and pans on ultra-special occasions). But he knew how much mess bothered the kid, and he remembered how much Peter had enjoyed it when he surprised him with dinner, so he went to great pains to thoroughly clean his apartment, and to plan a lavish meal. He even planned to show hours of infomercials that Peter not-so-secretly enjoyed instead of the usual movies.

He spent the hour before Peter was supposed to arrive pacing back and forth: he'd sit at the table for a few seconds, go to fiddle with the banner a little, sit on the couch for a moment, check to make sure the infomercials he'd recorded were ready to go, walk through the kitchen to ensure meal preparations were in order, and repeat. Seven o'clock finally rolled around, and Wade was spring-loaded, ready to answer the door. Minutes passed by, and nothing. He started walking the length of his kitchen again, wringing his hands. _Everything's fine. He's been late before. He's a busy kid!__ (Sure, sure. Except last time he didn't have a reason to want to avoid us.) [Or to hate us...] __Shut up, shut up. It's fine. He'll be here in a bit._

It was 8:23 by the time Wade started seriously considering what the voices said. Peter hadn't even answered the text he sent him around 7:30. In fact, he hadn't heard from him since a few days ago when he'd insisted that he was alright, and that he'd meet him at his place at 7:00 pm. The merc started to question himself. Maybe he'd just misread the text the dozens of times he'd obsessively checked it to make sure he had everything ready on time for that night. He checked again, but it was still the same, "I'll meet you at your place again. How about around 7?"

They'd agreed, so why wasn't he here? _(Told you so. You ruined it. He doesn't want to be around us anymore.) _Wade felt a deep sinking feeling in his chest, but not from dejection, no. _You and I both know that he's not that kind of person. If he says he'll be there, he's going to be there. Even if Petey hated us, he would say it directly, not pretend like it's ok and then bail. Something's wrong._ The voices remained doubtful, but the merc knew that something was amiss, and headed out the door without a second thought.

* * *

Wade decided the first place he should look was, of course, the kid's apartment. He chose to forego the formality of knocking on the door, teleporting himself straight up to the fire escape outside of Peter's living room window. There weren't any lights on, but as soon as he peered through, he felt something was off. He worked his fingers under the frame and quietly pried the window open, crawling inside without a sound. He felt his way towards the lamp he knew was close by, fumbling to turn it on in the dark. Yellow light flooded the room, and there on the floor in front of the couch lay Peter, fully dressed in his Spider-man suit, dripping blood onto the already large puddle staining the carpet beneath him.

The merc felt his heart jumped into his throat. He rushed to kneel by the kid's side, but hesitated to actually reach out and check for a pulse, afraid of not finding one if he tried. _Please be alive. Please be alive. Please be alive._ He sat there for a moment, hovering over Peter's body, his hands outstretched but not touching as he mentally chanted his plea. Before he could pull himself out of his haze and do something useful, Peter shifted with a groan.

A wave of relief washed over the older man as the kid struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. He finally moved, snaking an arm under Peter's shoulders to support him, scooting forward to lay the kid's head on his lap. Peter lifted a hand, but grimaced in pain and quickly lowered it.

"Could you help me? I can't really raise my arms. Will you take my mask off?" Wade complied, using his one free hand to do so as gently as possible, noting his sickly pale complexion, and the dark bags under his eyes. The merc swallowed, but remained uncharacteristically silent, watching warily as Peter shook his head, loosening the sweat-dampened hair that stuck to his forehead. He let his head roll back, his eyes still closed as he inhaled shakily before finally speaking.

"Thanks. It gets rather stifling after a while."

"What happened?" Wade felt a strange chill work its way through his body, which was only worsened when the kid started speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Eh, the usual. Fighting bad guys. Got a little careless and got knocked around a bit. Nothing too serious. I came back and laid down to take a nap before heading to your place, but I guess passed out for longer than I anticipated. Sorry I missed our movie night." Peter smiled weakly. "I'll make it up to you next time."

The older man fought back a surge of irritation. "That doesn't matter! Don't worry about it. Worry about yourself." Wade realized his tone sounded a bit harsh, and made an effort to speak softer as he continued. "So why are you laying on the floor, **next** to the couch?"

"I... I didn't want to get it dirty."

"You couldn't even cover up!? You're freezing cold!" Wade's voice came out unnaturally high and strained.

"I was too tired to make it to the bedroom."

"The quilt is literally right next to you."

"I didn't want to ruin it. You worked so hard..." Wade bit back another uncharacteristic wave of anger, wondering why he would be worried about such stupid things when he was on the brink of death. "Don't worry. I'm _hanging_ in there." Peter snorted at his own bad pun, but was startled when the older man raised his voice.

"Are you an idiot!? Where's your sense of self-preservation!? I always thought you were a smart kid, but god was I wrong..." The merc continued to chide him, a foreign mixture of relieved, irritated, and frightened.

Peter finally opened his eyes, gazing up at him with a mocking smirk. "Oh, shut up, you hypocrite. At least I actually made it into my apartment before I fell asleep. I'm not the one who naps in alley ways. Besides, I'm fine- wait. A-are you... crying?"

"No, I am not." Wade denied in a stern voice, but Peter could see the faint dark circles forming on the fabric of his mask.

"Oh my god, you are! You drama queen! Always with the theatrics... Calm down, you big baby. Really, I'll be alright." The smirk faded from Peter's face as he realized the extent of the distress bending the merc's usually lighthearted mood. He tilted his head to the side, smiling gently as he tried to reassure his friend in a coaxing tone. "Come on. Don't worry so much. It may not be anywhere near as impressive as yours, but I do have accelerated healing. I'll be a picture of perfect health in a few days. Besides, I've pulled through injuries much worse than this."

He trailed off, waiting for Wade to react. Finally, the merc sighed, shaking his head.

"Idiot." The older man moved to stand up, and Peter could sense his foul mood had finally lifted. "Fine, but I'm taking care of you until you're better." The kid tried in vain to protest, but Wade would have none of it, stooping to lift him in one smooth motion and heading for the bathroom. "To start, we're going to get you patched up, and in a proper bed!"

* * *

Peter might have thought he wasn't ready to see Wade again, but he couldn't have been happier when the man showed up. He didn't even care about the kiss or whatever complicated feelings he had at the moment. He just wanted to be near him. When he was laying on his floor, fading in and out on consciousness as the sun slowly sank and the shadows filled the room around him, his only concern was getting to the merc's apartment. He knew he was late, but just couldn't seem to gather the strength to get up (though he had been victorious in the end, Green Goblin had worked him over good). Considering the circumstances of the previous week, Peter was afraid of what might happen to his friendship with Wade if the older man thought he stood him up. He knew the merc could be quite volatile and strangely sensitive, so he was worried what his absence might cause. When he opened his eyes and saw the merc sitting there next to him, he could have cried from happiness.

That said, it certainly didn't make things less awkward when Wade started undressing him. Peter understood that he needed to get cleaned off and bandaged up, and he knew that he couldn't do it himself in his current state. He had a few sizable gashes over his torso that made it too painful to lift his arms up enough to undress or bathe himself. Therefore, he understood, and even appreciated that Wade needed to help him, so he bit his lip and did his best to restrain his embarrassment, trying instead to focus on talking to the merc.

Wade listened to him recount the details of his fight with Green Goblin and how he ended up in such a state, restraining the repeated urge to interject while gingerly removing his suit. His eyes flitted over the kid's slim, battered frame as he removed his underwear, noting the multitude of wounds with concern. He wrapped a towel around Petey and guided him to sit on the toilet while he fiddled with the faucet in the shower, filling the tub with steaming water. After helping Peter stand back up and setting the towel aside, Wade picked him up and slowly lowered him into the water. Peter hissed in pain, but said nothing, gritting his teeth as the hot water lapped against his cuts. Once the stinging subsided, the warmth began to radiate through his body, soothing his aching muscles.

"I know you're modest, so I'll let you do your thing. Just let me know if you need me to help." Peter nodded, accepting a washcloth and soap from the merc, watching as the older man moved to sit on the toilet, facing away. Peter began scrubbing the blood from his limbs the best he could, wincing as every motion sent sharp knives of pain shooting through his body, striking up conversation to distract himself from it.

"So what made you decide to come over? "

"What do you mean? You didn't show up, so I was worried. I thought something must have happened."

"I just... I thought you might misunderstand... After last week, I was afraid you'd think I was avoiding you." It was the first time either of them had mentioned the event, and Peter felt himself blushing at the memory, nervously awaiting the merc's reaction.

The older man turned around to glance at him, but quickly looked back towards the wall before speaking. "I know you better than that. You're a good person. Even if you hated me, I know you wouldn't stand me up. You're too honest, and nice..."

Peter was shocked. "I could never hate you! ... A-and thank you. I'm glad you think so highly of me." He pulled his knees to his chest with some effort, and rested his chin on them, smiling down at his reflection, feeling strongly affected by the merc's compliment.

There was a pause followed by a chuckle from the older man. "I'm happy to hear it." Beneath his mask, Wade was grinning like a fool. _I told you! I told you! He doesn't hate me!_ Had he not felt the need to stay to take care of Peter, Wade would have been dancing through the streets. "Anyways, about last week... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to harass you so much, and I didn't mean to, you know, attack you like that. I just got a little excited..." Wade rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed to directly address his actions. It wasn't quite the elaborate, passionate apology he'd been intending, but at least things seemed to be alright between them again.

Peter was thankful that the merc's back was turned, feeling all of his blood rushing up to color his face. At the same time, he felt relieved. Their friendship wasn't ruined. Even though he felt the slightest bit dejected, a part of him still hopelessly hoping that Wade would actually have feelings for him, he was just happy to have dismissed the elephant in the room.

"It's ok. I'm sorry too. I got irritated, and lost my temper... And you're not an insufferable ass. I didn't mean that."

"No, I know I am."

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, sometimes, I suppose. Also, I might need some help now. I can't really properly reach anything above my waist, which is where most of the cuts are..."

Wade moved to sit on the edge of the tub, glad he'd not bothered to change into his suit before coming over. He slipped off his shoes and socks, and rolled up his pant legs, submerging his feet in the water behind the kid, coaxing him to lean back to rest against his legs. Taking the soapy cloth from Peter, he got to work carefully scrubbing around the wounds, repositioning him now and then to reach his sides and back. Finally done washing off the last traces of blood, Wade used the detachable shower head to wet the Peter's hair. He squeezed out a dollop of shampoo into his hands, rubbed his palms together, and worked his fingers through the kid's tangled brown locks.

Peter sat in silence as the merc continued on with his usual chatter, mulling over the recent string of events. He was well aware by then that there was no possible way for him to bury or ignore his feelings, hoping they would gradually shift back to friendship. He was too far gone, and Wade was just too damn amazing. The merc's unrelenting willingness to help and spoil him wouldn't allow him the reprieve necessary for his crush to fade. His feelings might be one-sided, but they weren't going anywhere anytime soon. To continue trying to deny them was just going to drive him crazy. So, Peter resolved that while he wouldn't make any moves on the older man, he was no longer going to force distance, or feign dispassion. He liked Wade, and wasn't going to feel guilty about it.

Finally letting all of his meticulously constructed barriers slip away, Peter leaned his head back to look at the merc's upside-down masked face, and smiled.

"Thanks for taking care of me."

* * *

There had been a change in Petey over the course of the last hour, and Wade wasn't quite sure what could have caused it. There was something different, something new in the kid's face and mannerisms that made him uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable in a bad way, no. Uncomfortable in the way that it made him feel... odd?

He had been giving Petey a lecture on the proper pruning and wiring techniques for bonsais, dependent upon the species, age, and artistic vision for the tree, when the kid interrupted, randomly thanking him. That was all well and good, but what was off was the way he looked at him. Nobody had ever looked at him with that kind of expression before. It was peculiar.

The smile the kid gave his was so... soft and sweet, the merc was actually paralyzed for a moment. His heart was suddenly racing, and his face flushed with warmth. He felt his fingers tremble slightly as he moved to continue scrubbing the blood out of Spidey's hair, silenced by an odd tightness in his throat, such that he could only nod in response. That same barely perceptible jolt he'd felt when he'd been laying in bed next to the kid a couple of weeks ago ricocheted through his body, though significantly more pronounced this time.

When he had finished washing Petey's hair, rinsed him off, and helped him out of the tub, his chest was still strangely tight. He had actually momentarily worried that he might have been having a heart attack (all of those chimichangas finally catching up to him), but he brushed it off. It's not like it'd kill him. He'd retrieved a clean towel to dry the kid off, but when he turned around, he was stricken off-guard by the kid's demeanor.

He was standing there, naked and wet, his hands clasped in front of him in an attempt to cover himself up. Aside from the bright red gashes here and there, his skin was milky and smooth from head to foot. Water trickled in little gleaming rivulets over the contours of his body, and Wade's eyes followed one down his chest until it disappeared behind the cover of the kid's hands. When he looked back up, Peter's head was slightly lowered, and he was gazing off to the side, a tinge of red spreading across his cheeks. He glanced up from under dripping strands of hair with those big, honey-gold eyes, and his lips pulled in a half-smile as he patiently waited for Wade to bring the towel he was gripping abnormally tightly. The kid cocked his head to the side questioningly. Wade snapped to attention, feeling like he'd been caught doing something naughty.

"J-just surveying the damage! I hope you have a lot of gauze stored up somewhere..."

"Yeah, actually. I have a whole first aid kit under the sink." _Stop doing that weird smile, darn it! Why are you acting so strange!?_ Spidey usually looked pretty damn good, but for some reason he was looking positively obscene at the moment. _Is he trying to seduce me?__ [Are you kidding? He's gravely injured. You're the one acting strange.] __No I'm not! It's him. He's acting different.__ (Still, I seriously, __**seriously**__ doubt that Spidey would ever try to seduce us.) _

Wade swallowed and quickly crossed the room back to where Peter was standing, helping him to dry his hair and the upper half of his body, quickly turning around to busy himself with gather supplies from the cabinet below the sink while the kid dried the lower half. A significant amount of peroxide, antibiotic ointment, gauze, and surgical tape later, Peter was all patched up and somewhat resembling mummy. After holding Peter steady in front of the sink so he could brush his teeth, Wade picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, setting him on the edge of the bed while he rifled through his dresser for clothes. He managed to finagle the kid into a pair of boxers and a baggy button-up shirt, laughing to himself as he remembered when Spidey had picked him up from an alley, thinking that things had come full circle in their friendship.

Finally, the kid was tucked into bed. Wade felt unusually exhausted. He barely took care of himself from day-to-day, but he still felt inclined to go above and beyond to pamper his friend. He had headed for the door, intending to sleep on the couch, wanting to give the kid his space (still feeling guilty about his excessive intrusion into Peter's bubble over in the past few weeks). However, the kid had called out to him.

"Are you leaving?"

"No, I'm just going to sleep on the couch. Did you want me to stay in here with you?" He had asked half-jokingly, sure that the kid would quickly deny him.

"I... I lost a lot of blood, so I'm having a hard time staying warm, even with blankets..." He looked so small and pale in the bed that the merc couldn't help but comply. _Alright, i__f I have to be gravely injured, I'm at least going to milk it a tiny bit. _Peter tried to sound as pitiful as possible, stifling a smile when the merc took a step back from the door. _Maybe I'm being a little bad, but it's not like I'm going to grope him. Just some perfectly innocent horizontal hugging..._

"Oh... Yes, of course!" Feeling a little giddy, Wade turned off the overhead light and slipped under the sheets, not bothering to remove his shirt or pants. He wrapped Peter up in his arms. The kid nuzzled into his chest and quickly fell asleep, but the merc laid awake for a while despite his exhaustion. His mind hadn't quite finished unwinding from the day's events. He had been so exceedingly afraid when he found Peter laying on the floor, and so overwhelmingly happy when he was alright. That, combined with the fact that now Spidey was acting weird. _[He's not acting weird. You are.] __No I'm not! You saw that weird smile. He's never looked like that before! And he was all salacious. Not to mention, if he's normal, why was he sleeping on the floor? Something's off...__ (He said he didn't want to ruin the couch.) __No! Something's off.__ [It doesn't matter. At least he's alive, and he doesn't hate us.] _Wade figured there was no use arguing it. There was definitely something different about the kid, but maybe it was just because he was injured. _True__ enough, I_ suppose. Wade tightened his grip around Peter's waist, snuggling closer with a sigh. _ Goodnight, Deadpool.__ (Goodnight, Wade.) [Goodnight.]_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Hello again! Yet another delay in updating. Apologies, but... life and such. Many thanks to unlikey yaoi pairing, donnyd312, Ie-maru, darkangelwp, MysteriousCreep (haha), Requiescat in Pace il Ti Amor, and the anonymous reviewers for their kind words! Special thanks to LokiHetfield for her continued support and encouragement (aka: the person who pep-talked me through the lengthy and painful process of editing)!

**Hey! You! Yes, you! Read this. Seriously.** I will be changing the rating for this story to 'M' when I update the next chapter (wink, wink). That means, for the readers who just search through recent Spideypool stories for updates, this story will no longer show up in the default search. You will have to change the filter to show 'M' rated stories to find it (otherwise, it only shows stories up to the 'T' rating). I know a lot of you probably already know this, but for those of you that didn't, here's your warning!

* * *

Wade was pulled from a deep sleep by a loud crashing noise echoing throughout the apartment. He reflexively bolted upright, looking around in blank alarm, immediately noticing Peter missing from beside him. The merc stumbled out of bed, tangled in the sheets, and sprinted out of the room. Seeing a light on in the bathroom, he burst through the door and was greeted by the sight of Peter on the ground, draped in the now-detached shower curtain, surrounded by numerous broken plastic rings that had been holding it up.

"Areyouok!?" Concern forced his words out in a barely coherent jumble.

Peter looked up like a deer in headlights, shocked by the sudden intrusion. Visibly relaxing upon seeing the older man, he laughed sheepishly, struggling to stand. "Yeah, I'm alright. Sorry I woke you."

Wade rushed to his side, lifting the kid to his feet from the heap of vinyl. "What in the world were you doing?"

"I, um... had to go to the bathroom. I guess I've not quite regained my balance yet, and I got a little light-headed when I was about to leave. I tried to grab something for support, but..." He motioned to the ruined shower curtain laying at his feet.

Wade fussed around him for a few moments, checking for any new injuries. "Why didn't you ask me to help you?"

"You were sleeping. And we may be good friends, but not enough that I'd want you accompanying me when I go to the bathroom. I don't care if I fall and hurt myself. I'll be damned if you're going to 'assist me' with this." He said it in a joking manner, but the look on Peter's face gave Wade the impression that this was one subject he wasn't going to budge on.

"Alright then... Well, do you want to head back to bed, or..?"

"No, I'm actually starving. I've not eaten since before I left to go on patrol yesterday." The older man instantly perked up.

"Breakfast it is then, sweetums!" With that, he scooped the kid up and whisked him away to the living room, gently setting him down on the couch, and wrapping him up in the quilt, burrito-style. Peter watched in amusement as the older man picked up the remote to turn on the television, flipped the channel to the home shopping network, and adjusted the volume to 13 (both Peter's preferences, but ones he hadn't realized the merc was aware of).

"I never would have pegged you as the mother hen type..."

"Well, I just can't suppress my nurturing nature when it comes to you, Petey." Peter smiled and hid his face in the blanket, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, thankful that the older man had already turned and headed for the kitchen.

* * *

After a lengthy bout of bickering, Wade reluctantly agreed to simply pour Petey a bowl of cereal, the kid insisting that was all he wanted. He settled in beside him and they ate, watching television while the merc made numerous comments on the fabric quality of the line of women's high-waisted pleated pants being paraded around for sale on the screen, Peter interjecting now and then with his own critiques.

At some point, around the fourth or fifth pair of pants, Wade found himself getting increasingly distracted. After he had brought him his breakfast, Petey'd pushed the quilt aside, mentioning not wanting to spill on it, and shifted to sit with his knees up to his chest, using them as a table to rest his bowl on as he ate. It was an innocent enough position, and one the merc had seen him take many times before, with the very large exception that this time the kid was still only wearing the over-sized shirt and underwear Wade had put on him last night. It seemed like every time he glanced over, the boxers slipped a little farther up his thighs, making it harder and harder not to stare.

Nubile was the perfect word to describe Spidey's body. The lines of his frame flowed in a mesmerizing fashion, drawing the merc's eyes up from his slim ankles, over the bend of his knees, and back down to the tantalizing dip where the back of his thighs met with the curve of his luscious little ass, ever so slightly visible now beneath the teasing hem. His skin looked so silky smooth, a lovely shade of ivory, and despite Petey being firm and toned, Wade was willing to bet that it would have a deliciously supple give under hand. The urge to reach out and test his theory was rapidly chipping away at the merc's already limited self-control. Luckily, for once, the voices acted as ones of reason.

_[Pervert.] _It was enough of an interruption to draw him out of his reverie, and still the hand that was slowly creeping across the couch towards the kid of its own volition. He actually jumped slightly. _What? No, no, I was just... sitting. Wait, what do you mean with that accusatory tone? [I mean you're a pervert, obviously.] Well, of course I am! I don't need you to tell me that, but why are you saying it like it's a bad thing? [Because it is a bad thing.] (No it's not, you prude.) [It is when you're contemplating groping your seriously injured BFF.] I was not! (I was.) [...] Fine, but come on. Look! He's all... indecent, and sensual. [That doesn't make it ok to grope him. And he's not indecent! We're the ones who dressed him.] Ok, alright, but really! Look at that cute little butt! [Yes, I know. It is quite lovely.] (That alone should be enough to award the inventor of spandex a Nobel Prize!) [Shut up. We're having a discussion.] (Rude...) [Anyways, there's a difference between admiring our friends lovely attributes, and leering. You, mister, were leering.] I was not! It was just a more advanced form of admiration. [Pervert.] _

The merc shook himself, managing to silence the voices for the moment. He was not a pervert. Well, he was, just not the bad kind. He glanced over at Peter. The kid was giving him a quizzical sidelong look, but said nothing.

"What?"

"No, nothing... I've just never seen someone eat cereal quite so... violently." The older man realized that he was gripping his spoon in a tight fist, and there were little spatters of milk covering his arm and lap (and probably his face, from what he was feeling). He'd apparently been too lost in his inner conversation, and his emotions had slipped out, manifesting in rabid spoon-to-mouth action.

"Ah, no. I was just thinking!"

"About murder?" Wade laughed a little too loud.

"No. About happy things!" _[Pervert.] "_Such as... why don't we live together?" There was a long silence.

"What?"

"I was thinking it might be nice to live together." The merc had blurted it out, grabbing for the first thought that came to mind, but it was actually something he'd been giving a lot of thought to in the past few weeks. Peter, however, didn't seem quite so interested, giving him a skeptical look. "Come on, it would be beneficial for both of us! You're a hardworking kid, but you're stretching yourself thin between school, being a hero, and trying to support yourself. Not to mention you don't even charge for your hero-ing services." Wade ignored the exaggerated eye-roll Peter gave him and continued. (That was a discussion they'd already had too many times before.) "I make a lot of money, so if we lived together, you wouldn't have to worry about expenses! And if you get injured again, I'll be right there to lovingly nurse you back to health so you don't almost bleed out on the living room floor! I'll even clean up after myself, and cook whatever you want! It'll be great! It'll be fun!" The merc clasped his hands in front of him, gazing off into the air dreamily. He had actually managed to work himself up while speaking. It was the best idea! Just two guys, best friends, living the life together!

"So how do you benefit?" The question, and Spidey's less-than-enthusiastic tone brought him back down to earth.

"What?"

"How do you benefit? If I were into mooching off of people, everything you mentioned would be great for me, but how could you possibly benefit from taking care of me?" Wade realized that not only was Peter not as excited as he was, he actually seemed a little irritated.

"Well, uh... friendship?" The kid sighed and looked away.

"Listen, I understand where you're coming from. You're a nice person and a good friend, and you probably want to help me out. I appreciate the thought, I really do, but I'm doing alright on my own. Sure, it's difficult, but this way I feel like I'm actually accomplishing something. I don't want to be taken care of. I want to be self-sufficient." The older man watched him carefully. There was an air of determination in his voice, such that Wade could tell it would be useless to argue. The kid looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "Really, thank you though. You already spoil me too much as it is. I can't have you making me completely useless. Not to mention that I have a lease on the place through the end of the school year." _Not to mention I'd probably end up jumping you if we lived together..._

There was that odd jolt yet again, and the merc was stricken by the thought that he wouldn't mind at all if Peter became reliant upon him (though he knew the kid would never allow it to happen). "Well, at least think about it."

* * *

Wade washed the few dishes they'd made, and fetched Peter's laptop for him so he could email his professors to let them know he'd be missing class (using the excuse that he was sick, rather than trying to explain his injuries). It didn't take long before Peter dozed off to sleep afterwards. Wade sat watching infomercials for a bit longer, but decided to use the time to run a few errands. He'd left his apartment in a rush, and if he was going to stay with Petey for a few days, he'd need to retrieve some things. He wrote a note and left it on the counter for the kid to find if he woke up, tucked the quilt around him snuggly, and headed out.

When Wade returned about a couple of hours later, carrying a backpack loaded with clothes and various odds and ends he needed, as well as an armful of bags of groceries, the kid was still napping on the couch. He put everything away as quietly as possible, including hanging up the new shower curtain he'd bought, and sat down at the opposite end of the couch with his sewing kit and the tattered Spider-man suit he'd helped Petey out of the night before.

* * *

It was only about twenty minutes later when Peter woke up, finding Wade sitting at his feet, mending the numerous slashes and tears in his suit, quietly humming. He shifted to sit up straight, having sunken down into the corner of the couch while sleeping. The merc looked up at him over a pair of reading glasses, causing him to forcefully exhale in laughter, mid-yawn.

"Sorry I fell asleep again. I'm just feeling pretty worn out still."

"It's no problem! You need your rest while you're recuperating. Can I get you anything?"

"No. I'm fine, but thanks. And thank you." Peter motioned towards the suit in the older man's lap, smiling. "You don't have to though. I might not be as proficient as you, but I usually do my own repairs."

"Nope. I've got it." Peter conceded, instead turning his attention to the pile of homework that needed doing. They sat for a few hours, Wade sewing and rambling away, Peter, surrounded by stacks of textbooks and notebooks, nodding every now and then. Finally, when the shadows from the window were growing long and the light was fading from the room, Peter set his laptop aside and groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes.

"Done at last! All of the homework that was assigned today through the weekend is completed! Now I can do nothing but sleep for the next two days." He sighed contentedly and slumped into the cushions. The merc perked up from his seat.

"Hungry?"

"Yes!"

* * *

After dinner, they watched more television, coloring with crayons on construction paper, supplies the merc picked up while he was out. Eventually they both grew exhausted, and Wade once more helped Peter bathe and redress his wounds. The older man showered separately, and both of them headed to bed.

The weekend passed, and they fell into a comfortable rhythm, Wade tending to Peter's every need despite his resistance, the kid constantly, stubbornly insisting that he could do this and that perfectly fine on his own. More than once he told the older man that he was spoiling him, and more than once Wade thought that he didn't mind at all if he was. He did a couple of small hits close by. He didn't need the money, but he wanted something to do during the day so he could give Petey some alone time, not wanting to annoy him with his constant presence.

By Monday evening, Peter was finally feeling well enough to return to classes. Neither of them mentioned it, but there was a shared awareness that it meant Wade would be leaving, and it left both of them feeling rather listless.

* * *

Wade was already laying in bed when Peter entered the room, still damp and flushed, fresh from the shower and wearing only boxers, his torso wrapped up in gauze he'd haphazardly taped over his mostly healed wounds. He had stubbornly insisted upon doing it himself that evening, despite a large portion of his injuries being on his back. As he moved to lay down, he realized his favorite pillow, the best and fluffiest one, had been taken from his side, and was instead beneath the merc's head. He crawled onto the bed, catching the older man's attention in the process. Putting on his best accusatory expression, trying not to crack a smile, Peter narrowed his eyes at the merc.

"I see you've taken something that's mine."

"Whatever do you mean, Petey?" He could see the corners of Wade's mouth curling in a devious grin beneath his mask. Peter crawled a little closer, readying to yank the pillow out from under the older man's head.

"Oh, you know exactly what I mean." In a slip that he would later insist was only caused by his weakened constitution, Peter missed, the merc just managing to pull the pillow out of the way before he could grab it. He leapt, not willing to let Wade have his coveted pillow without a fight. The older man yelped in surprise, failing to dodge. They grappled, rolling around on the bed, too busy laughing to realize the compromising position they were slowly working themselves into, just relieved to have broken the gloom that had befallen them with Wade's impending departure.

After a few minutes, both of them were winded. Peter had managed to pry the pillow from the merc's hands, but Wade had quickly retaliated, pinning him to the bed with the weight of his body so he couldn't wiggle away. He grabbed for it, but the kid held it just out of his reach, his arm stretched above his head. They laid there for several seconds, Wade struggling to shift just far enough to grab it, Peter managing to repeatedly evade him, using his free hand to push against his shoulder, wrapping his legs around the older man's waist to hold him in place. Spidey was much more flexible, and the merc found himself at a disadvantage despite his size and dominant position on top.

Wade chanced to look down, still struggling to move just half an inch forward, just enough to claim the pillow and victory, but he was inexplicably blindsided by the sight. The kid's eyes were glued to the pillow, trying to ensure it stayed well away, and he was grinning while biting his lower lip, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. However, he must have noticed the merc's sudden lack of fight because he looked up at the older man questioningly. The grin slowly faded from his face, and they laid there staring at each other, both suddenly very aware of the full extent of the contact between them. The room was uncomfortably quiet, the silence broken only by their labored breathing. Wade found his eyes drawn to the kid's mouth. His bottom lip looked so invitingly soft and wet. Like gravity, the merc felt his body moving on its own, overcome by the desire to taste Peter again, drunk on the memory of their last kiss he'd been trying so hard to suppress. The kid must have felt it too because his eyes were hazy and half-lidded. Slowly they inched closer and closer until mere millimeters were separating them. Wade's mind was completely blank, but just as he was tottering on the threshold of giving in to the primal need surging through his body, a flash of red caught his eye. He pulled back, looking down to find, much to his horror, blood soaking through Peter's bandages. He immediately jumped up, cursing himself as a wave of guilt filled him, realizing that their wrestling around must have reopened the wounds.

Apologizing profusely, he retrieved the first aid kit from the bathroom and diligently patched the kid back up. By the time Wade had finished, the strange air of tension that had filled the room had dissipated. Neither of them mentioned the incident, but Peter thanked the merc, and they laid back down to sleep, Wade insisting remorsefully that he take the fluffy pillow.

Peter had felt a distinct thrill run through him when their lips had almost met. He was somewhat disappointed by the turn of events, and chalked it up to Wade's usual carefree nature. He was a bit embarrassed that he'd almost let himself get caught up in the mood, but was infinitely thankful that the merc let it drop afterwards. He resolved to not linger on the thought, and fell asleep rather easily, curled up comfortably against the older man.

* * *

Wade, on the other hand, was wide awake, laying on his back. _[Pervert.] What... was that? (We were going to kiss him.) Yes, I am aware of that, but... [That wasn't going to be an innocent little friendship kiss.] No. No... That was different... (...) [...] _

Oh, yes. Wade knew something was different about that near-kiss. Very, very different. There was a deep longing, a hunger almost that had filled him. Even several minutes later, his heart was all aflutter and he was absolutely giddy. _[We like him.] _There was a rush of... something throughout the merc's body; a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation emanating from the pit of his stomach, radiating out through to his limbs. His muscles tensed up and he suddenly felt very nervous. He slowly turned his head to the side to look at the kid's sleeping face, barely visible in the scant light. He was absolutely stunning. That jolt he'd felt so frequently as of late shot through him with overwhelming intensity, and the full meaning of the voice's words sunk in. This wasn't just joking around, or being perverted, or simply an itch that needed scratching, or lust, or hunger, or desire, no.

_I... like him._


End file.
